Can't find it.
Anywhere.
We moved last week. A few days later our stuff moved. I sort of thought it would feel more like Christmas. 359 boxes, all for me to open!!!
Only, not so much. I lost interest after the first 9 boxes. It's not really Christmas if you already know what's in the box. And to be honest I just don't consider used rugs, flashlights without batteries and melted chocolate chips as great gifts.
We have hit a critical point in the unpacking process. It has to do with adrenaline, inertia, and gravity.
Bottom line: we are tired.
And we are without our toaster. Brave Little Toaster. Where are you? Are you somewhere in a box marked "Garden Tools"? or have you been dispatched to a child's room with a bunch of Transformers? or, perhaps the very worst has happened to you... maybe my generous neighbor, who helped me pack my kitchen up north, claimed you as a 'door prize' and is now enjoying my bagels.
So. We can't find it.
Anywhere.
1 comment:
I'm hiding in the garage. "...Polo."
The Toaster
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