Random Esquire

I bought my parents this Breville blender for Christmas.  It is what they wanted, it’s what they got.  When my father pulled the blender out of the box, he spent about 10 minutes turning it over in his hands, feeling its heft and admiring the die cast base.  It was like love at first sight.  My mother went on a fruit and vegetable buying spree and they liquified anything they could find and then suck through a straw.  But the romance was short lived.

The power switch inside was wonky and so my mother asked me to have the blender replaced.  I had to go to the manufacturer.  That was about a month ago.  Every single time I’ve spoken with my mother since then, she asks me for an update on the blender.  Sometimes, she calls me and only asks about the blender.  Would you like to know how our last conversation went?  I called her earlier in the week.

Mom:  “Hello?”

RE:  “Hey, Mom.”

*pause*

Mom:  “Who is this?”

RE:  “How many people call you Mom?!”

Mom:  “Oh!  Hi.  Do you have my blender back?”

This is what I’ve become.  Nothing but a blender update.  And every time I tell her that I do not have it back, she is personally disappointed in me.

Mom:  “Can’t you write something bad about them?  So they will fix it faster?”

RE:  “No, Mom.  This is normal.”

Mom:  “Well, I’d sure like to have it back.  Okay, talk to you later.”

I don’t even remember why I called.