My kitchen appliances have staged a revolution. And I’m pretty
sure I know why.
My kitchen appliances have staged a revolution. And I’m pretty sure I know why.
I don’t cook. Look, it’s not that I don’t want to cook – OK, maybe that’s part of it. But there’s something in my brain that actually prevents me from following recipes correctly. It’s like a learning disability for housewives.
But a few weeks ago, I did cook. And it was a disaster. Ever since then, my appliances have stopped working. Oh, they were sneaky about it. At first, I didn’t realize that I had a revolution going on.
One day, I was minding my own business, mixing up some margaritas in my blender. And that’s when the odor hit me. It was a burning smell – a scent smelled way too often in my kitchen. Only the weird thing was that I wasn’t cooking anything.
But the blender was.
Unfortunately, it was the motor. Yes, my little blender had gone to that Big Kitchen in the Sky. I was sad – mainly because I hadn’t finished mixing the margaritas when the blender died.
But for a while after that, everything was normal. We went out to eat. The appliances sat in the kitchen, unused. And then I decided to cook again. And that’s when the oven took matters into its own, er, hands.
I was innocently broiling some lamb chops. As per the agreement with my homeowner’s insurance, I had the fire extinguisher ready and waiting near the oven. But suddenly my oven went insane. It locked itself up, and went into cleaning mode.
With my lamb chops still inside.
After a brief moment of panic, Harry managed to shut the oven off at the circuit breaker and save the day – as well as our dinner. At that point, I was still not really aware that the appliances were in cahoots.
And to be honest, I didn’t blame the oven for going crazy. On the rare occasions when it was used, I burned everything I put in it.
But then one day, I opened the refrigerator. And something weird was happening in there. Stuff just didn’t seem as cold as it normally would have been. So I adjusted the temperature and went along with my life.
And then I opened the freezer.
Everything in it was melted. Rivers of thawed Otter Pops were running down the door. My prized collection of Swanson frozen dinners were defrosted. It was horrifying. And that’s when I knew that my kitchen was in the midst of a full-blown revolution.
All I could do was pray that the one appliance I valued the most would survive. Because I knew that if the microwave joined in, my family would starve. Oh sure, we could live on melted ice cream for a day or so, but without that microwave we’d never be able to reheat restaurant leftovers. What would we do for breakfast?
It was a catastrophe in the making. And it was my fault.
I’m pretty sure my appliances were sick and tired of being used incorrectly. I mean, maybe the fridge wanted to be cleaned once in awhile. And maybe the oven wanted to cook food instead of burning it. And maybe that poor little blender just wanted to spin up something other than margaritas.
So that’s what I’m doing. I’ve had everything fixed – well, except the blender. I think it earned a nice long rest, so I replaced it. And I’ve vowed to be a kinder, gentler cook – and maybe, just maybe, I’ll overcome my disability, read a recipe and follow it.
I think that would make my appliances very, very happy.
