September 4, 2010 § 6 Comments
…just broke. This is a good omen.
My mother bought us this microwave, despite our protests, a few weeks after our first daughter was born. She came to meet her new granddaughter and found me pie-eyed and exhausted. She suggested that the small modern convenience of a microwave might help me feed myself. I think my husband and I had lived on yogurt those first weeks of parenthood. We relented, even though it seemed impossible to cram one more appliance onto our teensy kitchen counter. I didn’t really see what use it would be. Of course, reader, you know what happened. Life. A very full life, and a close acquaintance with the frozen food case at PCC. Thank you, Amy’s Kitchen. Thank you, Morning Star. And to those pretty decent Indian food entrees, thank you.
Seven years, one more daughter, and two kitchens later that microwave has beeped it’s last beep. I decided not to include a photo with this post because, well, it’s kind of gross. It served us well, especially in those early years. We gradually weaned ourselves from microwaved main courses to popcorn, until finally we were just using it to heat up milk for coffee and tea. Our children have grown (although they might be slightly radioactive), our lives have loosened up a bit, and we’re cooking again. A lot! In four days our youngest will enter Kindergarten and I will cross – no, sprint – into a new phase of life. One without preschoolers. So I bid adieu to our microwave, with gratitude and humility. Never to nuke again.