Toaster Troubles

I hate our toaster. Chod loves it. I despise it. Once when I asked for a new toaster Chod was so shocked by my lack of love for his favorite appliance that he didn't talk to me for hours.

Why the toaster?

At first I think I resented the stupid piece of chrome because of where it came from. It was Chod's ex-girlfriends parent's toaster. Then it was her toaster, and then when she didn't want it anymore it became Chod's, and I married into it from there. The only thing it has going for it is that it looks cool enough, and fits in well with my 50's dining table--but that isn't enough for me to overlook its other flaws.

The toaster is very frustrating to operate. First, you have to put the right slice of bread in first and hope that you get it in the slot at the right angle so it will lower down. There is no button to push it down. You have to wait for it to decide that it is willing to cooperate before you can start dreaming of toast. Then after you have convinced the toaster that you deserve this slice of toast you have to stand guard. Sometimes the toast comes up before it has even had a chance to warm, and other times it is charred black. The toaster toasts rather quickly when it feels like it (the main advantage of this toaster in Chod's eyes is the speed of toasting), but it doesn't feel like it enough that you expect the bread to be raised 3 times before beginning to turn golden and then suddenly it will burn the bread in 30 seconds flat.

The smell of burnt toast makes me angry.

Tonight when Chod burned his toast (he still claims it was "golden", but it was definitely black) I simply said, "I'm asking for a new toaster for Christmas."

From his reaction I suspect that he will not be the one buying me a new toaster, but I can guarantee come Christmas morning there will be a new shiny toaster sitting under the tree with a tag that says "from Santa."

Santa and I are close like that.