New Appliances remind me of bad romances.
Start off all shiny and new, you are excited seeing them every day.
Then you fall into a routine, and when you see them you sigh.
It started with the Mixer making an appearance in the house.
But wait, who needs a stand up mixer when you have a hand mixer, right?
We all oohed and ahhed over the appliance as it basked in the glory of newness.
"You just wait," said the dishwasher, the broken handle duct taped.
"They'll forget about you too," said the apple peeler from the back of the bottom cabinet.
"You give them everything then they betray you with something new," said the Parmesan Cheese shredder.
"At least I'm still considered useful," said the refrigerator.
Romances need a lot of communication, key to making things last.
Want to know the reason we break up with new appliances so easily?
I pull everything out of the box, I put it together winging it along figuring, this fits here, so obviously it goes there.
Holding one extra piece, I start looking for a manual.
Finally, I find it, looking at a few pictures on what the mixer should look like,
My mixer doesn't look anything like the pictures.
I must have screwed something up, going back to the piece of paper, I turn it over.
"For instruction manual, visit our website."
Translated, this mean, "We don't want to kill trees for something you'll lose anyway, so either Google that shit or go to our website."
I look back to the mixer, "I can figure this out, I'm pretty smart."
And that is why the mixer sat on the counter, moving quicker than the dishwasher or apple peeler from new shiny fun romance to "has been" in the matter of a week.
But wait, this romance has a happy ending!
The hubby, not a rocket scientist but pretty close, asked, "How's the mixer working out, are you making bread yet?"
I look at it, "We're separated right now, I can't figure it out."
He does the right thing, looks at it, Googles that shit and has it all together! "Why not give it a try?"
I look at the mixer, wondering why I wanted to dump it, it's so shiny and new!
"Yeah, let's give this relationship another try," I say pulling out flour.
"Not fair," says the dishwasher, "All I need is a screw in my handle."
"At least they see you, I'm hidden so far in the back of the cabinet, they'll find me again when they move," says the apple peeler.
"I'm just going to sit here and cry," wails the Parmesan grater.
"At least I am still useful," sighs the refrigerator and I reach in for butter.