After four days of bad coffee in the java wasteland of northern Ontario, I returned home excited to be reunited with my beloved husband, the two cats and my morning latte.
Perhaps the ghost of the oven timer was out for revenge. Maybe the Latte Whip needed time apart and just didn’t know how to broach the subject. Or did Murphy just get bored? In any event, Handy Andy will be going shopping today.
To his credit, Andrew fessed up to the Latte Whip’s unexpected demise. I’d have believed him if he’s told me one of the cats had knocked it off the counter. Also in his favour is the fact he didn’t try to fix the damage with electrical tape.
So, while Andrew scours the kitchen shops, I’ll take my latte into the garden, breathe in the calming scent of my lavender bounty and be grateful that the cats have tails and Andrew still has all his fingers.
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{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
I don’t know much about latte whips, (or lattes, for that matter), but I look at that picture and it doesn’t cream “lifetime warranty” to me. I say you’re lucky you had it as long as you did!
Welcome back.
Weird Freudian slip with the scream/cream mix-up there. Maybe I need a latte to wake up the old brain…
Bummer. Kitchen gremlins must hatch in July there.
You’re right Cheryl, it doesn’t scream “Lifetime warranty” but it was chugging along nicely after a few years’ daily use — until…
And Roxanne, it’s open season on kitchen gremlins here. Weather seems to have no effect.
The irony? Andrew had made a special trip to the grocery store for organic milk and blew his big “tada!” by breaking the latte whip. I’m still keeping him. He’ll just have to upgrade the next milk frother.