TOASTER

On Saturday morning, Jethro and I woke up to the sound of a loud clash in the kitchen.

Throwing my slippers on, I raced down the stairs behind my husband to see what had caused the noise, afraid one of my kids had been hurt.

I walked in to the kitchen and found Tony sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by pieces of the toaster oven.

"Tony!" I shrieked, "What happened in here?!"

"I was trying to toast a bagel, but I didn't really know how to use it. I tried to figure it out, Mom, but I think I broke it more," Tony said sadly, holding up pieces of the broken toaster oven with one hand and the screwdriver he had apparently been attempting to use with the other.

Jethro walked over to the kitchen table and picked up pieces. Tony had obviously been working on this for a while, but based on the number of pieces, it looked as if he was taking it apart instead of fixing whatever the supposed problem was.

"How on earth did this happen?" said Jethro, taking the screwdriver from our son, "It is going to take me all day to fix this. I have no idea how to put this back together.

"Well, Jethro," I said with a smile, "If you can figure out how to build a boat, I am sure you can fix a simple toaster oven."

And with that, I turned around and walked out of the room, knowing that if I stuck around, I would surely get nothing but sarcasm.