Microwave Replacement

Today, sprigs of green are peeping out of the earth, pushing aside the tired and frazzled burnt-brown grass. Like a connect the dots puzzles, they form a clear picture: spring has finally arrived.

Suddenly, I’m energized.  

After being cooped up since the onset of the pandemic last year, I am now compelled to sanitize and reorganize my entire house, using the two-year rule.  If you haven’t used it or moved it in two years, out the door it goes.

First, my closets.  After watching several episodes of Forensic Files, it was obvious the camera man seemed to linger on the cluttered bedroom closets of the crime scene.  By the looks of them, anyone could have been mine. How embarrassing!

Not anymore.  After today, if my bedroom ever becomes a crime scene, TV viewers will be impressed with an uncluttered and tidy closet.  

Following the completion of the bedrooms and bath, tackling the kitchen presented its own challenges. The less than shiny appearance of my worn appliances shouted their ages.   Specifically, my Amana microwave oven, which I purchased nearly 36 years ago. That microwave has been with me as long as my husband!

I was pleased with my new microwave, all those years ago.  It was sleek, attractive, and operated flawlessly.   In the early years of marriage, my husband possessed these same qualities.  

It soon became evident that the microwave wasn’t quite what it used to be.  Little things.  The numbers 4,5,7, 8, & 9 no longer worked.  The reset button finally decided to throw in the dish towel and retired.   The microwave still functioned, just not quite as well.  Sadly, the same could be said for my husband.  

For instance, on any normal workday, my husband would shower, dress, have two cups of coffee and out the door, headed to work within 25 minutes.  Now, it’s closer to an hour before his finishes his second cup of coffee.  Fifteen minutes later, he’s still staring at his shoes, sitting directly in front of him.  No problem, just takes him a minute or two longer to get cooking. 

The interior of the oven is worn and yellowed with age.  As I glance at my husband, he too, looks a little frayed and pale.  It must be the lighting, I reason.  

Remembering the two year rule,  I decide to replace the old, worn-out microwave with a brand new one.  There was a momentary twinge of sadness as I unplugged the old microwave.  That Amana Radarange has been sitting in its prime location above the kitchen countertop for nearly 36 years, watching as the life this family unfolded.  Memories surfaced; like the time someone tried to reheat rice in a stainless steel pot.  Not to mention the thousands of bags of popcorn which were cooked and consumed while watching Disney movies with our grandsons. 

My husband walks into the kitchen, as I’m removing the microwave.  “Are you getting rid of the microwave?” He asks. “ We’ve had that thing for a long time.  It’s been a good one.”  

I look at my husband, then at the microwave.  Then, back at my husband.  The microwave is old, but it still works.  So, what if it’s temperamental and a little difficult to operate at times?  Time has aged the oven, making the interior slightly worn and yellowed.  A few of the parts are worn out.  New isn’t always better.  It’s just new.  

The new microwave is still in the box.  I’ll return it tomorrow, keeping what I’ve had for a long time.  “It’s been a good one.”  Both the microwave and the husband. 

Spring cleaning is done.