What I Want For Christmas

It's December 6. Seventeen days left before I have to go shopping for Christmas. Which means I have to start thinking about what to tell people I want. My good wife has learned to not even ask. She gets me nice things that I never would have thought of. But what do I want? There is one thing. Everyone has that philosophical ideal that they wish for, world peace, cure for cancer, irresistibility to the opposite sex. I want a toaster that works.

I've owned lots of toasters. All of them work the same. I put a slice of bread in the slot, push down the handle and bingo! It pops out ready to eat, except it's too dark. I adjust the setting figuring that the calibration is off somewhat. New piece of bread, same result. I put in a third slice, this time the only thing that comes out the slot is black smoke. I've permanently singed my eye brows looking into the toaster slot to see when the bread is just right.

Our society has landed men on the moon and brought them back. We have missiles that can go down chimneys. We can automatically pay tolls on the highway without stopping. Why can't I have a toaster that makes toast the way I like it?



Carnival at Blond Sagacity