It's Just A Waffle Iron
I got out of bed just after 5 this morning, unable to fall back to sleep after the second thunderstorm rolled through and rocked Northern California overnight. Today was the last day of kindergarten for my not so little man, so I decided to make waffles. I put on the coffee and mixed the batter. I plugged in the waffle iron and poured myself a cup of coffee. The coffee was hot, but the waffle iron was not. I tried a different outlet, but still no heat. I made pancakes instead.
My waffle iron is dead and my son is no longer a kindergartener. I'm a little sad.
I received the waffle iron at my wedding shower 11 years ago this month. I remember making waffles on the end table in the living room when our kitchen was torn up during our first remodel, way before kids came into the picture.
I'm going to a wedding shower this weekend. George's nephew is getting married, and his wife-to-be calls us Uncle George and Aunt Molly. We are uncle and aunt to a couple about to be married. They will probably receive a waffle iron as a wedding present. They will make many heart shaped waffles. But one morning, they will wake up and find that their waffle iron has died a cold death.
I hope they don't worry that it's an omen, a sign of big changes on the horizon. Because really, it's just a waffle iron.
Posted by Molly at 9:49 PM