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Our five year old son, Jim, was hungry! The fact that
this empty sensation occurred less than an hour after he finished
lunch, did not alter his discovery in the slightest.
He stood in the center of the kitchen with one thought
in mind: What could he find to eat?
He looked at the refrigerator, then the stove, then the
cupboard where the crackers are kept. His searching blue eyes
glowed with interest as they rested on the dry cereal, but
he soon convinced himself that a bowl or even a handful of
cereal was not a fitting desert for lunch. Still undecided,
he noticed the toaster. With deliberate emphasis, he closed
the door on the cereal. He knew just the snack to carry him
through �til dinner!
He stood on tiptoes to plug in the toaster. Then he
hurried to the bread box returning with an entire loaf of
fresh bread. Using hands, which would never pass a cleanliness
inspection, he placed a slice of bread in the toaster, pushed
down the lever and leaned against the drain board watching the
element begin to heat. He licked his lips as the smell of
warm toast filled the kitchen.
Then he remembered that the automatic part of our toaster
is out of commission. He shoved his left hand into an oven
mitt, which covered his arm almost to the elbow, giving more
than enough protection for him to hold the toaster fairly
still as he used his right hand and all the strength he could
muster to push up the lever. At last, the toast came in sight!
The look of anticipation, which had brightened his face,
turned to dismay, for the toast was badly scorched.
There was only one thing to do... He took a table knife
and the toast to the sink, where he proceeded to scrape the
burnt crumbs into the recently scoured enamel. He scratched
and he scraped and he rubbed, while dreaming of how good
it would taste after it was ready. Suddenly he straightened,
held the toast up to the window and discovered he could see
clear through it. All that remained of his eagerly awaited
snack was the crust. He had scraped the entire center of the
toast down the drain.
This time, he was prepared and the second piece of toast
was a perfect golden brown. He carried the butter dish to the
drain board, started to butter the toast and was immediately
faced with another obstacle. The dish was empty! From the
refrigerator he brought a new cube, unwrapped it and finally
managed to get a big chunk of it to stay on the knife. Of course,
by this time the toast had cooled, so spreading it became an
added problem. After a valiant effort, the butter remained
in a cold, uneven lump right in the middle of the toast.
It would take more than these slight delays to stop Jim!
With greasy hands, he shoved his light, straight hair away
from his forehead. As an afterthought, he wiped both of his
hands on his clean jeans using a quick, overall motion which
forced his hair to fall back into his eyes.
After a short search, he found the jar filled with a
cinnamon and sugar mixture, placed his thoroughly handled
piece of toast on a saucer and started to sprinkle the contents
of the jar onto the toast. The drain board changed from it�s
normally cream color to a spotted brown making it evident
that very little of the mixture was actually landing on the
target. With a few more vigorous shakes, Jim had to face still
another sad fact. The jar was now empty.
Using calm reasoning, he turned the toast upside down
and rubbed it in the saucer. But this was not the solution to
his problem, for when he removed the toast, most of the cinnamon-
sugar mixture remained on the saucer. He paused to consider
the possibilities, then picked up the saucer and holding the
toast directly in front of him so any loose grains would fall
to the floor, he poured the mixture from the saucer onto the
toast.
Filled with a sense of satisfaction, Jim took a bite of
his masterpiece. He chewed it thoughtfully as he wiped the
back of his buttered hand over his mouth, disturbing the pattern
of crumbs, sugar and cinnamon, that had formed there. Then
he looked up at me wearing an expression of absolute
accomplishment and said proudly:
"Oh boy, I sure do make good cinnamon toast, don�t I?�
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