Imagine my surprise when, as I was leaving my parents’ house, I spotted a big, unmistakable box in their basement.
It most certainly wasn’t empty.
I knew my mom’s kitchenaid was upstairs (being used that very moment, in fact, to mix her challah dough), so this big box downstairs must contain…..another kitchenaid!
Indeed, after just one round of thinly-veiled pleading, my mom picked me up from the metro for a matinee performance, and insisted on driving me home afterward, new toy in tow. Needless to say, as soon as I got home, I popped this baby out of the box and took it for a test drive.
It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed a kitchenaid would be — like a second set of hands that’s better than my own. Ok, there are certain things my digits can do that a kitchenaid can’t.
If you think of any, let me know.