A Funny Story

Last night my Bosch mixer literally stopped dead in the middle of blending some bean dip for dinner!!! Oh sad sad day--but even sadder little Seth! When it died, I looked down and put my hands around it and said "Oh.... It DIED!" And he, whose only experience with death happened 6 weeks ago when Troy died, looked at me in abject terror with chin quivering. I leaned down to hug him and tried to explain to him that the Bosch wasn't a REAL part of our family--only a small kitchen appliance--that everyone was okay and that we could replace the Bosch, etc. etc. etc. but he just started to sob and sob. Reality check for Cara. I still had what really mattered.

A short history of the above Bosch machine: my sister-in-law's mother, sweet woman whom I've known for years, bought it at a garage sale a long time ago. Its age has never been determined but I suppose that now might be the time to pull out my carbon dating equipment--if I actually believed in the concept of carbon dating! Nevertheless I know that this Bosch mixer lived a long and honorable life. It sat in Shauna's kitchen (sister-in-law) and then in a box in their garage for years before it ever came my way. Even if it had only served faithfully in our family for the six years we'd had it, it would have paid for itself a few times over. Never mind that: I forgot it was free. Even better! I'd always wondered how long it could last with the abusive food experiments I'd heaped upon it--barley bread being a very memorable one. This time I'm going to get the new and improved cookie beaters (been through several pairs of those)...