Double Homicide

If I believed in Greek gods, I would believe that the god of Bread was conspiring against me.

I would believe that sabotage, mayhem, and death were all working closely together to abolish bread making in my household as I know it.

I usually make all of the bread we eat in this house. It is better nutritionally, it is super cheap, and with my Bosch mixer and the awesome bread recipe I have, it is fast and easy.

Knowing that we would need more bread come Monday morning, I set out on Sunday to make bread. My kitchenaid had already been hard at work making brownies, so she was resting in the corner.

But the Bosch was ready to get to work.

Now let it be known that my Bosch mixer was previously owned by Jeff's grandma. So it has seen many a bread dough in it's time, and it has worked faithfully for me as I'm sure it did for her.

But something was a foot yesterday. As Jeff stood over the Bosch, holding it in place (the older ones don't have the high powered suction cups that the new ones do, so they bounce around on your counter a lot), we heard a sudden metallic, bumping around sound. Which worried us, since the large metal rod that helps hold the bowl in place had already broken and been replaced, so you kind of think, "What now?"

Jeff stopped the mixer, and when we pulled everything out, this is what we found.

The bread paddle attachment had broken completely. Crumbled almost. I was understandably ticked. But I tried to make the best of it.

So I took the bread dough out, carefully removing all bits of broken off steel, I took half of the dough, and planned on letting it finish up the kneading process in my Kitchenaid.

I cut the dough in half because the Kitchenaid has a much less powerful motor than the Bosch and cannot handle as much.

After depositing the dough in the Kitchenaid bowl, I called my mother to ask her about a lady that can get new Bosch mixers for pretty cheap.

Only to be interrupted by a persistent whirring noise.

You guessed it. In it's attempt to not disappoint me, and to pick up where the much older Bosch failed, my poor Kitchenaid, that I have had for 13 years, decided to poop out as well.

So at this point, I have un-kneaded dough, two broken mixers, and tears.

That's right, tears. My poor mother had to hear my breakdown as I realized that it's 13 days til Christmas, the busiest cooking season, as well as the spread-the-thinnest-money-wise season of the year, and both my mixers were just sabotaged.

Am I complaining? Yes.

But it gets worse. Have you seen what bread that doesn't get kneaded enough looks like? It ain't pretty.

So now I have no mixers and no edible bread for Monday school lunches. But then, then I begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I finally have a legitimate reason to get a new mixer. Hallelujah! Eureka! It might not be until after Christmas, but what a convincing argument I have. Not one, but two broken mixers. No husband could deny his wife a new mixer after THAT. Especially with all the money I save us making our bread from scratch.

So I begin to allow visions of new mixers to dance in my head:

As I'm daydreaming away about brand new breadmakers, and lovely ice blue mixers, I hear Jeff call my name.

"Hey Amy, I found a 20 dollar part online that can fix the kitchenaid, and we can get a new bread attachment for the Bosch for 40 bucks. " (I guess Bosch attachments are universal, and it doesn't matter how old yours is)

All of a sudden there was a new noise, the sound of my lovely dreams coming crashing to the floor.

My reply was heavily laden with sarcasm and not attractive, "Can't we just duct tape them back together?"

My sarcasm was surprisingly not appreciated.

Normally, I am very proud of Jeff's ability to fix things, to make things last a little longer.

But this time, THIS TIME, I could have done with out it.

The end.