The oven is toast.

Julian's been saying that we needed a new toaster oven. We looked at a few but never pulled the trigger on making a purchase. The problem is the top element, its gone squirrely and when I make the toast, it will be white, white, white, burned - like an evil game of breakfast duck, duck, goose.

Julian's a good sport and he usually eats the too dark toast anyway. Me? I'm a bit more particular. I'm a "lightly-toasted" kind of gal and sometimes, I just want the butter melty and that's all. I'm not big on wasting food, but this morning, I decided my breakfast needed a redo. And looking at this picture now, I realize that maybe I over-reacted. The toast doesn't look that bad, but I just wasn't having it.

WHY DOES THIS MATTER? The only reason this matters is that its a wee bit sentimental. You see, Julian's toaster oven died just after we started dating. This anger-inducing toaster oven is the first thing we shopped for and bought together. I still recall that it felt like a big deal, in that we-might-actually-live-together-some-day kind of way. {I wish I had realized this a bit more and not insisted he purchase a butter dish for his apartment because a year later we married, set up housekeeping, and now we have two!}

This weekend, we will celebrate our sixth wedding anniversary. Maybe I can talk him into taking me out and buying me a new toaster oven to commemorate the occasion in celebration of those good ol' days of banana splits and busted toaster ovens in Blacksburg.