2021-10-20T18:29:32-07:00June 28th, 2011|Musings on life, Relationships|

The hand blender

It was the end
of a long day
filled with minor irritants
of a privileged life.

The effort to puree yams
does me in.

The hand blender
a gift
made in Switzerland
supposedly expensive
makes a sudden
and shocking mess
on the wall
in my hair
and is now high
on my list
of despicable things.

I look at my husband
who is calm at the edge
of my rage
and I understand that it is me
who is loathsome.

He holds my gaze
for a moment
and then he loudly
pronounces the blender
to be an asshole.

This is it
and it is enough.

I lick yam
off my shoulder
and marvel
at my luck,
at my perfect life.

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