The Toaster

People pleasing if it were a countertop appliance

Along with this past season being the summer of sanding, priming and painting anything that stood still, it’s been part of sifting and sorting through what’s important in my life.

It’s a season of change. My son graduated with his associate’s degree and promptly joined the U.S. Marines. I am so proud and happy for this exciting new phase of his life.

It’s the happiest grief I’ve ever known.

As I emerge from this grief, I’m asking myself, “What works for me? What doesn’t?” I’m deciding what stays and what goes. What’s the new game plan? My half-time’s over. It’s the third quarter of my life. Time for heads-up football, as my dear-old-dad would say. He taught me life is like one big football game. But that is another story. Analogies aside, it’s almost needless to say that I stared down a milestone birthday with a lot on my mind.

So, the easy stuff included my work to get sh*+ off my kitchen counters! My kitchen knives are now proudly stowed in a drawer organizer. I expect Martha Stewart and Joanna Gaines to call for a tour and consult. I refer to this effort as Operation Countertop Liberation. It's a technical term. Let me be clear: This isn't tidying. This is a sustained strategic campaign.

I’ve gutted cupboards, laid in new shelf liners, and even an under-sink waterproof mat. When the knives went into a drawer, I knew I was entering advanced-stage Countertop Liberation behavior.
I looked around and thought, "What else among you is here merely because you've always been here?"

Large coffee maker: It’s G-O-N-E. I went “glamping” one weekend and discovered that I needed a percolator, instead. Along with making better coffee, it is small enough to stow in the appliance garage.

And, BTW, whoever said appliance garages were just a fad? That's blasphemy. Close the roll top door and ... sigh. Perfect.

Paper towel holder: it was small enough. It was handy. It had tenure. It stayed.

Wood bowl: It’s officially categorized as functional art. It also remained in place, proudly displaying fruit and vegetables from my garden. It should have a blue ribbon pasted on the rim.

Toaster: You're outta here.

Valid question: Why am I giving up valuable countertop real estate to a machine whose sole function is producing a food I don't enjoy?

Obvious answer: Because I've always had a toaster?

Because don’t ALL kitchens have toasters? Because other people might want toast someday? Oh, hello there, recovering overfunctioner. Yep, that used to be me – caring for everyone … except myself. During the half-time locker room huddle, we examined how well that had been working for me (or not).

So, yeah…we digress. Returning to my kitchen, it’s my choice which appliances hold court on my countertop.  The toaster was people-pleasing in appliance form. And at some point in the Countertop Liberation exercise, my gaze fell upon the toaster.  I thought: Wait. What part is mine?

Dry toast: Not mine.

Counter: Mine.

Toaster: Evicted.

That f**ker had ONE job and I don't like dry toast.

The priceless takeaway from the Countertop Liberation exercise is that not everything deserves counter space simply because it's been sitting there a long time or “it’s always been like that.” Yeah. No. Seriously. I learned that toast can be made on a griddle. In actual fact, it tastes better because the butter is slathered on the bread BEFORE it’s toasted. That crucial step makes toasted bread, well, tasty. If you slather butter on bread and put it in a toaster, you will be arrested for arson.

The butter goes on FIRST, then the bread goes butter-side-down on the griddle where it gets golden and crisp and the butter actually becomes part of the architecture.
You don't apply butter afterward like you're filling out paperwork. You cook it in.

Meanwhile, the toaster can only offer up: Dry. Toast. "Would madam care for a dry, crumb-spewing rectangle that will require buttering while rapidly cooling?" No. Madam would not.

Let's consider another result, shall we?

Bread + butter + toaster = Fire Department Open House.

Firefighter: "Ma'am, can you tell us how the fire started?"

Me: "Well, sir, I was trying to make toast in my toaster that I would actually eat."

Firefighter: "And you knew putting buttered bread in a toaster was dangerous?"

Me: “In a word. Yes."

Firefighter: "Why did you do it?"

Me: "Because all civilized people know dry toast tastes awful."

Firefighter: “Fair. Consider toasting bread on your griddle, next time.”

See why the toaster remains evicted? One hundred percent of imaginary firefighters agree that Griddle Toast earns its place on the menu.

Recently, I went Griddle Toast 2.0 -- I now enjoy avocado toast with BACON almost daily.

Yay me!

Do the things you love. Shed the rest and don’t let unwanted things take up any more space on the countertops of your life.

Seriously. I learned that toast can be made on a griddle.