Last week, I picked a fight with a toaster oven. As the hearty scrubbing was about to begin, someone came to its rescue with distracting conversation.

A few days later, I gathered reinforcements. Each time I saw the oven, I would silently declare “I’m coming back for you”. It didn’t know me well enough to tremble, yet.

Today, we squared off for round two. The noise and mess occasionally rivaled that of the three-man deconstruction project upstairs.

I won. Appliances beware.