I like my mother-in-law. This is not an anti-mother-in-law story. It is just strange.
Not sure how I got in the middle of this. I guess you could say my wife, JoAnne, dotes on her mother. And her mother, June, dotes on JoAnne. They’re a doting duo. Except my daughter, Sara, is in the mix too. She gets doted on as well. But that would be a trio. And – Oh, never mind…
So – the toasters.
June’s toaster broke. JoAnne got rid of the toaster and started buying new toasters. She bought cheap ones. She bought expensive ones. Starting in October 2015, she bought two toasters (one at a time) at Kohls, two at Target (one at a time), one at JC Penny, one at Walmart, and one at Shopko.
June, one at a time, rejected all of them. “They only toast one side,” is her complaint.
So, at some point in the last few years – I came up with a cheap and nasty toaster – at a rummage sale. It was out in the bunkhouse. It just slipped out, I swear, but I said something like, “toaster in the bunkhouse works.” – and there it began – the slippery slope which involved me in the great toaster debacle of 2016.
JoAnne (very intense) “Does it toast the toast?”
Me, surprised by the question, “Yah, that’s what they do.”
JoAnne, “But does it toast evenly?”
Me, trying to think about something I’ve never thought of before, “I – I – I think so.”
“Because I’ve bought so many, and they only toast one side.”
By now, my good wife is staring at me, eyes glazed over, and I’m wondering what I’ve stumbled into.
Then, I remember. I’d brought the old toaster to work.
I relay this information to my wife.
She, “Well, get it back.”
There is more than one toaster at work. I decide to mention it at when I get in – in the morning.
In the morning – the subject totally slips my mind. I’m not a morning person – and in the morning – everything slips my mind. As I’m driving all day – and often don’t return to the garage until after everyone is gone – I call the dispatcher on my cell phone. Unfortunately, the dispatcher has the phone on speaker – and the dispatch area is full of people.
As I try to explain why I need my toaster back, I hear chuckles – then howls – in the background, and someone yells “SEVEN TOASTERS?” I continue slogging through the story, trying to make it sound somewhere near normal – and the laughter gets even louder.
Every driver I meet during the day, sees me – then grins ear to ear. When I get to the garage – there are ten drivers surrounding two toasters on the table in the driver’s bull pen. Each toaster has a ribboned bow tied around it. I’m informed they weren’t sure which one was mine.
I take the toaster home. Compared to those my wife bought – it looks like something out of the trash can. I plug it in – with multiple instructions from my wife. It makes perfect toast.
I inform my wife – if her mother doesn’t like the way the toaster works – I don’t want to hear about it.