by REBECCA SPARROW
If it weren’t creepy and, you know, possibly illegal I’d consider marrying my healthy grill.
Okay, so there’s a sentence I never thought I’d write but let’s keep moving.
Ironically, my healthy grill and I have a deeply unhealthy relationship. I suspect Dr Phil would call it borderline abusive. But I like to think it’s rather ingenius of me to go beyond the stereotypical cooking of lamb chops, sausages, rissoles and fish. Pfft. That’s for novices. My healthy grill (who I feel the sudden urge to name Stuart) cooks me fried eggs. And pikelets. Fish fingers. And I even wacked oven chips on there for Ava once and they turned out –okay, not so great. But still, you know, edible which is the benchmark my three-year-old is looking for. Onya, Stuart.
So you can understand why when I read this blog from writer Elizabeth Ann that I immediately understood where she was coming from. She writes about the romances we all tend to have with certain inanimate objects in our lives. Don’t get me started on how much I love the GPS system in my car …
Not all relationships are traditional. They don’t all involve two people and lead down the path to marriage. Some of my most important and meaningful relationships have been with things, with improper nouns, and I’ve gained more from these objects than from most courtships with men. Patience, trust and devotion, all learned and practiced with inanimate objects.
Some relationships were traditional, some one-sided, some abusive but all were insightful. I’ve invested similar amounts of time and emotion (and money) in these tangible yet lifeless things as I have with past boyfriends. At this point, I’ve been through more with my DVR than most men I’ve slept with. Because who do you trust more to record the finale of Jersey Shore Mad Men: a man who can barely make toast, or a machine?
She was so lovely back in 2004– sleek, compact and pink, hungry for my favorite songs. What happened? Steve Jobs kept happening. With newer and newer technology, what was once amazing was suddenly clunky and inconvenient. Plus, she really hit the two-year mark hard and just stopped working one day. We had a great run, but it’s possible to outgrow even your favorite things.
We’re so close, I call her by her full name, Katherine. She helps me look and feel fabulous, and I let her. I’m not sure what Katherine gets out of this relationship, but I think my happiness keeps her satisfied. That’s my kind of woman.
Mildew doesn’t care how much your shower curtain cost, so I continue to cheap out and buy the one that rings up at $2.50. Maybe it’s because I can’t justify paying over $3 for a pile of clear plastic and magnets, or maybe it’s because I’d rather invest in Tilex. When you care enough to provide the best accessories, they get the job done.
So what inanimate objects are you in a life long romance with? Which ones have been more of a fling? And is Bec the only person to attempt to cook oven chips on a healthy grill?