Christmas Day, done.
New Years Eve/Day, done.
The Harley Davidson 2011 Calender thrown in the bin and replaced with The Official Justin Bieber Calender 2012. It seemed like a good idea at the time because not only would I know what day my anniversary is on but I can also use the calendar as a dart board. Although I would now have to look at Bieber in many different positions throughout the year.
I had come home after a weekend away with the boys, the wife had her weekend in the house with the girls. Ann Summers party on New Years Eve? Must be mental. I can only imagine the type of bendy things that were being produced as the year ended.
I got home, the house was cleaned. One of her many talents that. That and cooking.
I slept in preparation for the first day back at work tomorrow.
The alarm went off, I slammed the off button with my fist and stared at the ceiling. No one gets up at 7am. They get up at 7:05am.
I looked at the clock; it was 7:06am. “Damn it.” I thought, “Now I have to wait until ten past.”
Ten past came around minutes later, I hopped out of bed. My usual routine usually included heading downstairs, popping the bread in the toaster. Watching it pop up and smothering on the butter.
I have had this routine for 15 years.
Whenever I didn’t have my toast it was always a bad day. So I always made sure I had my toast.
I went down stairs looked at the toaster. “Yummy”, I thought. If there’s one thing I look forward to in the morning it’s a good few slices of toast. I turned to the bread bin and almost fell back in shock.
The bread bin… was gone. It had been replaced with a… bread maker?! I opened the lid there was nothing inside it but some black crusty mess.
“What the hell is going on!?” I screamed. I looked frantically around the house looking for the bread bin, it was nowhere to be found.
“WHERE IS IT!?” Thundered out of my mouth.
“It’s nowhere to be found is it?” A mysterious voice said.
Who the hell was that? It couldn’t have been the wife, she was doing a night shift… “Who is that?” I yelled.
“You don’t know? Have you ever heard voices before today?” The voice replied.
I looked at the bread maker, it sat there; mocking me over the fact that I couldn’t have my toast.
“The bread maker?” I asked.
“That’s right. It’s me, the bread maker. Your wife was given a bread maker while you were away, she had nowhere to put it though so I suggested throwing away that old stupid bread bin. She didn’t need to buy any bread anymore, not when she has me.” The bread maker said sinisterly. “But guess what… I’m defective and I burnt the bread!”
How the hell was the bread maker talking?! Why was she given a defective bread maker?! She threw away the bread bin my mother made before she died?! That stupid bitch! Now we have a talking bread maker who can only burn the ingredients!
“Where did she think she’d put the bread once she had made it?!” I yelled at it. The bread maker laughed.
“Exactly! You married an idiot. But you won’t need a bread bin because I’ll never make you any edible bread!” It said.
The lid then flew open and fired the burnt lump of bread at my head. I fell back and hit my head on the wall. I ran at it and started punching it repeatedly, the more I hit it the more it laughed. The more it mocked. I got the bread knife out of the holder and stabbed at it over and over.
I started choking it with my hands, at least I thought I was. I imagined where the bread makers throat might be and just went for it. I lifted it off of the kitchen counter and flung it at the back door, just as the wife was walking in. The bread maker hit her in the side of the head. The temple, she fell back and broke her neck on the stairs.
It was at that moment when I realised the bread bin was on the other counter, next to my anti-psychosis pills.
As my wife laid there peacefully with her new bread maker entrenched in the side of her skull it was at that moment I realised; no amount of toast was going to stop this from being a bad day.
So I switched the kitchen light off and went back to bed, deciding to have a sick day.