Toasters and Goldfish

Sometimes I'm sitting there, and I realize that I can't remember anything that happened in the last 5 minutes. Or more importantly, what I had for dinner last night. I'm like a goldfish in that way, they can't remember anything they eat.1

It happened to me just this morning. All of a sudden I became cognizant of the fact that I was standing in front of the toaster, waiting for something to pop. I must have come to be there by getting out an english muffin and popping it into the toaster. Then perhaps I went to the refrigerator to set out the butter. And made a trip to the cabinet to get out a plate. But, to tell you the truth, I don't remember doing any of those things. Not with certainty.2

Anyways, the muffin popped and I reached in to take it out of the toaster. Sometimes when I am taking things out of the toaster, I feel like I'm playing Operation. You know, because you have to get the toast out without touching the rims of the toaster which would burn you.3

"Good MORNING!" declared my mother, with exhuberance. I'm enough of a morning person that this does not bother me, but I'm in the middle of playing Operation with the toaster. My hand hits the rim. BZZZZ. 4

"Shoot" I say, while thinking words far worse.5