Please Tell Me There's an Appliance Heaven

I’m always trying to eek the very last bit of function from my gadgets and appliances. Duct tape is so well suited to repairing a vacuum cleaner hose, it’s a shame to get rid of the vacuum cleaner, even though it fails to retract its electrical cord. We finally did get rid of the old Hoover canister vac -- the one we bought with our wedding money -- only because the guy who sold us the new Miele offered to take it "on trade-in".

Last month my wife complained to me about the food processor. The only thing wrong with it was that the little plastic locking mechanism broke off the lid. You could still use it just by holding the lid down. But my wife insisted that the blade could somehow fly out like a ninja weapon and impale our daughter or, worse, injure one of the cats. She was adamant, and she threw it out. And when she threw it out, she didn't just toss it in the trash. She did the following:

1. Encouraged the cats to engorge themselves on an extra mid-day meal on the previous day.
2. Scooped out the three extra-full litterboxes (I suspect it was the first time she cleaned them since before she was pregnant with our 11 year old daughter).
3. Cleaned out the garage, filling two trash bags worth of garbage.
4. Combined all the above waste with the "broken" food processor.
   

Nothing kills a good session of dumpster diving faster than a salvageable appliance littered with cat excrement. Otherwise I definitely would've surreptitiously removed that poor little food processor from the garbage and brought it down to my workbench where it would sit in the land of unwanted tools and appliances, with the industrious spiders, just waiting for a handy dad-person to fix it.

It's at times like these that I hope there's an appliance heaven.

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This post was inspired by
Jenny Ryan's "The Firstborns".