“I broke another appliance today.”
This has become a common refrain at our house lately. I am not sure why, things just keep breaking in the kitchen.
We have been married for ten years now and like many couples that went for the big wedding, we received a number of small appliances as gifts. They are all about the same age and, as it appears, have similar life spans.
Some of this wanton destruction can be chalked up to clumsiness; little pieces of plastic from a food processor can break off easily if you drop it on the floor. Some of it is just wear and tear; I take no responsibility for rusting out the blender’s blade attachment, unless you consider “instruction reading” to be a responsibility. I mean really, who makes anything that is not dishwasher-safe in this day and age?
Perhaps it is my sub-conscience railing against my relatively newfound place in the kitchen. Having always told my family, and anyone else who would listen, that I would never need to learn cooking because I was going to grow up rich and hire a chef. Somehow that plan never quite worked out though…
Perhaps we should just consider ourselves lucky. Had I learned to cook earlier, these appliances would have worn out sooner. By fighting this homemaking duty, I have effectively prolonged the life of our kitchen machinery.
Yeah, I think I’ll go with that.
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