When I say stay down, you stay down.
If you want to remain a valued member of this kitchen, then you’ll need to toe the line.
I am well aware of your cunning ploy, holding down the bread just long enough for me reach the kitchen table before springing up.
As far as toasters go, you would be among the most temperamental I’ve encountered.
When you do your job, you do it well. That golden tinge across both sides, right to the edges, really is a valued skill.
Among the games you like to play is to simply refuse to hold the bread down.
I click down the spring-loaded lever, you pop it back up again. I do it again, as do you.
This frustrating tango can go on for up to 10 repeats.
Then, as if to spite me, you will latch onto the bread and hold it - hold it and hold it and hold it and hold it - until a fine spiral of smoke begins to rise from your elements.
This prompts a mad dash for your “cancel” button which can abruptly send the charred remains of what was once a fresh slice of Mighty White soaring from you.
Alternatively, it jams within the narrower-than-usual slots, further singeing and burning the bread edges.
There is something you should know. I would have no hesitation in replacing you with one of the other six toasters safely stored away in the hallway cupboard, mementos from well-meaning wedding guests who shared a similar thought at the time of our nuptials.
While I don’t seek praise from you, I feel I should inform you that I have saved you from an early exit on many occasions to the great wheelie bin in the sky (or in the front yard at least).
My wife, fuelled by a desire to purchase a new, snazzy, designer-style toaster has often declared you faulty and pulled the plug on you, quite literally.
Fearing the price of said new, snazzy, designer-style toaster, I lunge to your defence by seeing what might be the problem.
But I am unable to say how long this defence will last into the future.
I simply ask you to toast, and toast well.
Achieve this and both breakfast and life will be smoother for all.