Daily, I wander through the house, find things I need, find things that can wait, find things that I'm just glad she took.
Then there's today. I went in the kitchen to see if she took the crock pot. It was hers, no biggie if it was gone, just curious if I want a new one. It's gone.
Ok.
Thats when I spot the abomination. There's this little white plastic mutation sitting where my old blender was stored. It's this Hamilton Beach thing, 3 buttons, looks like it may hold 4 cups, plastic and covered in weird cakey ook that's older and more settled than my little sister.
That's not my blender. My blender I bought in 1989. I was single, it was an all black Oster with a glass jar and 12 speeds, all adding up to rocking good news. Drinks, sauces, pastes. You needed it, it made it.
This thing? I don't think it even works.
Now I didn't bitch about the hand mixer. We bought that. Whatever. I didn't even care that she left me with this weird $2 ebay thing that I've never seen before to replace it. In fact, I smiled when I discovered that she took the mixer thingies that go with my "new" $2 special. (what do you call those? blades, attachemts, wisks...I don't know. What ever you call them, you can also call them gone, 'cuz I don't have them!) I have a square piece of plastic that makes noise when you flip a switch. Woo hoo. I logged into Amazon and bought a new one. Not a great one, but one that at least...well...mixes.
So what did I do about the blender? I emailed her:
Subject: So uhm hey...
Why did you take the blender I bought before going to college and leave me with the one [Unnamed Friend who you're not talking to] any more gave you?
Just curious.
Oh, I seem to have dripped a little bitter on me. It burns...
No, it's not really a battle worth fighting. If I get it back, "Yea team!" Most likely I won't though. I think the 2 things that bother me most about it are:
- She'll never use it. In all the time we were married, she never touched the blender. It fell on my specialty list.
- My Email. She'll know taking the blender pissed me off, and take great glee in it. Yes, that's right. Work it out, I already know it. I'm pissed because she'll know I'm pissed. I'm a special guy.
I'm going to miss my blender.
Goodbye Old Yeller...
2 comments:
Feel better with a little venting? ;)
Actually I do. Thank you.
Oh yeah, and a nights sleep didn't hurt either. ;)
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