Post Number Twenty-Nine

ODE TO THE MIGHTY MIXER

KitchenAid, thou mighty mixer,

Guardian of the counter top.

Sentinel over morsels semi-sweet and bitter,

Transformer of staples into wondrous nuggets of Tollhouse delight.

We come to you on the darkest of days when the rain will not cease and Glen of Fox will not shut up.

We come wearing aprons of despair asking only that you take pity upon us and upon our troubled spirit.

We are not worthy even to gather up the crumbs beneath thy rotational platform.  Yet we do so with eagerness and high expectation.

Sooth our spirits through the intinction of cookies and milk, Until the evening comes and we retreat into reruns and rest.

(This tongue in cheek ode is a response to daughter-in-law Anna's assertion that owning a KitchenAid stand mixer is a signature mark of one's whiteness and an expression of "whitedom" spirituality.  I really like my blue KitchenAid stand mixer, but I admit that Anna is on to something.  Thanks for the laugh, Anna.)

Comments

[April McGlothin-Eller]

I totally thought it was going to be a hymn, and so I kept trying to sing it to the tune "Beachspring"!

[Carl Thomas Stroud Gladstone]

Your, sir, are super-white!