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A hilarious account of what transpires when the microwave suddenly becomes non-functional.
After six years of exemplary service, my trusty old microwave bid me adieu, a few days back. My service was probably more than it could bear considering the amount of cooking, baking, heating and grilling action that it saw over the years. I guess, the poor thing was quite relieved at the end to gasp out its final breath and depart.
I had been planning to replace it with a newer version for some time but, unfortunately it literally conked off at a time when I was unable to go to the market to physically select a new model. This led to a delay in 3-4 days before the appliance could be replaced at home.
Working a back to back week, Sundays are my days of lazy mornings. Even the dog knows that on Sundays if Mom is disturbed for an early morning walk, then all hell breaks loose. Accommodating creature that he is, he too sleeps in late on Sundays. However, this particular Sunday, my older one decided to get up way too early (an occurrence that we see from her rarely), as she had exams starting. She wanted to get in some last minute cramming (well, been there done that so I really cannot fault her. She after all gets her genes from me).
So, here I was warmly ensconced under my duvet (Mumbai has been kind of chilly of late. Brrrrrrrrrrr), when I was rudely jolted out of my placidity.
“Mom, wake up! Did you not order the new microwave? How am I supposed to make my morning cup of coffee?”
Seriously, what? I mean it was bad enough to be woken up at the break of dawn but we do have a four burner gas stove and a piped gas connection to boot! I groaned under the covers and grumbled out an incoherent revert.
“What? What are you saying Mom? Can you please get up? I have to start studying in like 10 minutes and I really need my cuppa. What do I do now?”
Snuggling under the covers, I knew, would no longer be an option so bemoaning the lack of sensitivity exhibited by my child, I sat up bleary eyed and muttered, “Just make it on the gas yaar! You know how to light the stove. Go use your brains and make your coffee. Quit harassing me”.
“Seriously Mom, you are too funny for words!”
Too funny! Honestly that got my attention. I am anything but funny at the break of dawn as I am not a morning creature at all. “What do you mean, I’m being too funny?” I queried. I was fully awake now and amused too.
“Geez Mom! Even if I heat the milk on the gas, how would I know if it’s hot enough to drink? Duh! There is no timer on the gas na”, said my exasperated daughter.
By now I was in splits. “Well, you could try sticking your finger into the milk to judge the temperature”, retorted a thoroughly amused me.
“Mom, if I wanted to stick to these archaic methods, I would have been born in your generation. No wonder they called you guys the Gen Y. You guys were always questioning the “WHY” in everything. Thank God, I am born in Gen Z. We believe in simplifying life and not complicating it. Anyway, let it be, I’ll just go and have cold coffee. You go back to sleep. Tada”
Needless to say, I replaced the microwave the very same day!
Image Source: Pexels
Sonal believes that life is a repertoire of anecdotes strung together in a colourful array,
Sundays = Fun-day For Many, But Not For A New Mom!
10 Years And An Overdue Intervention
“But Why Is He Still Sleeping?” When Rest For Women Is An Imaginary Thing
The Neighbourhood Aunty [#ShortStory]
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