Mom and the Recalcitrant Waffle Maker

 

I was playing with toys on the threadbare gray carpet in the dining room. Mom was working on supper in the kitchen—one of my favorite meals: waffles! But things didn’t seem to be going well.

“Rrrrrr!” I could hear her say. “This stupid thing!”

Apparently the waffle iron wasn’t the only thing heating up in the kitchen today.

More groans and growls of frustration emanated from the kitchen. I peeked through the doorway to see what the problem was.

Just then Mom opened the waffle iron. The top half of the waffle was stuck to the top heating element. The bottom half of the waffle was stuck to the bottom heating element. The middle of the waffle was goopy and dripping. The edges of the waffle were black, crispy, and smoking.

 “Grrrrr! This is crazy! I’ve about had it!” She began scraping the waffle remains off both surfaces with a spatula and flinging them into a wastebasket.

For once in my life I didn’t ask any questions, deeming it wiser to go back to playing with my Johnny West cowboy action figure. I became immersed in creating adventures for Johnny and Thunderbolt for quite a while. When I came back to the real world, I realized the kitchen was quiet. And I recalled that Mom had stomped through the dining room some time ago and had gone upstairs.

Were the waffles finished? What had happened?

I crept out into the kitchen. The burning smell was still hanging in the air, but there was no sign of the waffle iron. Suddenly, something caught my eye as I passed by the back door. I looked more closely.

There, lying out in the snow, still steaming, was the waffle iron. It was wide open and face down, its cord snaking out behind it. The image is still vivid in my memory. It sort of looked like a manta ray who had accidentally strayed far, far from his native habitat.

I don’t remember anything else about that day, but I’ve often pondered what it was like for Dad to come home that afternoon, step out of his car, and see that waffle iron out in the snow.

Husbands, both current and future, let me give you a bit of advice.

If you come home from work and nearly stumble over a waffle maker cooling on the snow-covered lawn about ten feet from the kitchen door, be ready to show a lot of compassion.

Your wife has probably had a really, really, really bad day.

Copyright 2023, Steven Nyle Skaggs