Thursday, May 12, 2011


Everything new is slowly being phased out of the house. Since I moved out and got all independentwoman! on life, I've had this delightful little kettle, a hand-me-down from Nanny. In an increasingly sophisticated kettle world, she looks a little out of place -- can't whistle to let me know she's boiling, needs to actually be put on a burner instead of her own little stand -- but she works.

In one of his frequent showings of generosity, a few weeks ago Pa brought us a new kettle. His intentions were good -- this one doesn't boil itself to death, it heats up exponentially faster than my little beater, you just have to press a button and you're set -- but I hate it.
(excuse the messy countertop)

It is a huge chore to refill. The stupid handle doesn't move. You have to very carefully manipulate the opening underneath the tap, and it can't be filled more than halfway before the angle at which it needs to be held results in it overflowing.

The frustrations never cease with first world problems.

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