text: Once upon a time, there was a man named Henry that married a toaster. Henry didn’t expect to marry a toaster. It all happened when he was dating this woman that had an obsession with avocado toast. Henry didn’t like avocado, toast, and this woman but he was always at her house. One day when he was at her house...again, she was showering and Henry was at the kitchen making cereal. He always came to her house to make breakfast because his old apartment had a doorless microwave, a minifridge, and a broken coffee maker for a kitchen. While making the cereal, he heard a whisper. He turned around. There was the whisper again. He thought someone else was in the apartment, he grabbed a butter knife to see where the whisper came from, and then he heard, “Hey it’s me, the toaster.” He walked up to the toaster and whispered back, “are you talking?” “Yes, dumbass,” replied the toaster. The toaster told him about life as a toaster with this woman. He hated it. It’s every toaster’s worst nightmare. With all the avocado toasts the woman makes, it’s no wonder no toaster lasted more than six months. The toaster didn’t want to have the same fate as the other toasters. The toaster wanted to live with someone that would give it love and not just shove avocado and a slice of bread down its throat. Henry didn’t even question why a toaster was talking. He didn’t even question his sanity to see if this was even real. Maybe the cheap perfume this woman wore was finally getting to his brain. Anyways, without hesitation, he unplugged the toaster and walked out of the apartment. The woman came out of the shower and saw that “her man” and her toaster was gone. In a span of a few months, the toaster dictated Henry’s life. The toaster told him to break up with his girlfriend, told him what to eat, when to eat, what to wear, and when to go to bed. The toaster also boosted his ego by showering him with compliments (or lies) about his intelligence and looks. The toaster was Henry’s mother, leader, master, god, and his asskisser. The toaster brainwashed him. Everywhere he went, he took his toaster with him. He took it to the grocery store, to the mechanic to service his old Ford Focus. He also took it to his mother’s house so he can introduce the toaster to the family. The rest of the family thought he was crazy. They thought his crazy behavior was his way to cope after breaking up with his girlfriend even though that wasn’t true. Their son was just crazy. Henry’s relationship with the toaster escalated when he proposed to it. The toaster cried toaster tears but everyone else rolled their eyes. He knew without the toaster he is nothing. He needed his toaster every day, every hour, and every second. He needed the toaster for affirmation, confirmation, and to boost his ego. He couldn’t part with his toaster, he took it everywhere he went in his apartment. He slept with it -- as in they just share a bed -- he took it to the bathroom to use the potty and he also took it to the living room to watch Sunday night football. He was more dependent on that toaster than he was to his mother when he was a kid even though the toaster didn’t pay any bills. Henry wasn’t the first person, the toaster did this to. That toaster has been married to eight other people before him. What happened to them is a topic for another story but for now even though his family is very close to sending him to the crazyhouse, Henry and his toaster are very happy. \ Originally posted on my Medium profile.