Aim to Engage 2023

29 When the Toaster Rules

The Rumba accelerated across the kitchen floor and bashed into my ankle.

"Ouch! Friggin robots." I was trying to get the crock pot filled so we had a macaroni goulash ready for late supper. The kids were staying late because of sports, and I had a meeting I knew would run late. The boss never heard us when it comes to putting the budget discussions after coffee break.

I yanked on the lid and it refused to budge.

"George, come fix this damn pot."

My oldest was a genius with disarming the computers and convincing them our way was usually the right way to do things.

"Can't Mom! I'm fighting with the dryer. It won't let me open the door. Cycle's finished and I can't get my favorite jeans out."

"Let your sister grab the clothes after it pukes them out. I need you to fix the crock pot or we won't eat tonight."

The dog was growling at the Rumba, and when it started to chase Corky around the dining room table, I intercepted it and turned the main power switch off. The dog pounced on it, proceeding to jump on it a few more times barking hysterically as he upended it and the mopping water spilled across the floor.

"Enough already. What's with the machines around here?" My exasperated question was rhetorical.

"I swear the appliances are at war with us," George had his miniature screwdriver in his hand and went over to loosen the screws on the hinged lid giving me all my problems.

"Gross! Oh my God! The washer is peeing yellow stuff up here. The clothes are smoking, it must be some sort of acid!"

George dropped his tools and tore back upstairs.

"Fucking great. My jeans are toast, and so are yours Mom. Everything in this load has holes burned into it." 

 George only swears when things are out of control.

"Unplug everything, kids. Shut down your computers, anything the uses electricity has to be stopped. I went to pull the cord for the toaster, and it wrapped itself around my wrist. It constricted until my hand started to turn red and tingle.

I reached across with my other hand and yanked the plug anyway. No way was I going to let this escalate for another second.

The cord snaked across the counter and jammed itself back into the receptacle.

"They're plugging themselves back in! Shit Mom!"

Charlie's shriek had me looking for a way out. I grabbed the wire cutters and sheared through the cord holding me hostage. The shock was better than losing my hand. My wrist was rubbed raw and bleeding as I escaped.

I left the lights out in the garage as I went for the main electrical shut off. Yanking the big switch down, I risked the damage to computers and appliances alike. Hopefully those in their charging stands would say where they lived.

That done, I raced upstairs to survey the laundry room. Charlie's hair stood out in an electrified halo around her head. She backed away from a stinking pile of ruined clothes in front of the dryer and turned to throw herself into my arms.

"Mom, this is insane. What's got into them?" George came out of his room. "Unplugged everything from the power supply. Figured the battery in there would be a problem."

"This house is staying dark until we get back. I wonder if anyone else has the same problem?" I secretly hoped we weren't the only ones. The last thing I needed was to be accused of improper maintenance under the Responsibility Act.

"Do we dare turn on a wrist unit?" George asked. He had his ear pods in. The kid never went anywhere without them.

I smelled smoke, different from the wisps still rising from my wrecked Levi's.

Our eyes met and Charlie was first to take the stairs down.

In the kitchen, the toaster was red hot. Well it was a toaster oven. Black smoke rolled out of the bottom where the battery we counted on to keep all our programming alive lived. I turned to open the storage closet, and more acrid black fog rolled down of the wall. The Dust Buster, and two cordless hand blenders looked ready to explode too.

"Out!" I point to the front door. "This is beyond our ability to fight."

Charlie grabbed the budgie cage, and we hit the front door, finding it blocked. The smart lock on the latch was melting.

"The deck! Out that way. We can still slide it open; Dad didn't get the automation working yet." Charlie reversed course and led us out. We ran down beside the pool, where the skimmers were causing white caps.

"What the hell has gone wrong?" My eyes popped at smoke and flames soaring from the house across the street.

"I don't think you have to worry about the Responsibilities Act."

"Ma'am, you're in good shape compared to the rest of your neighbors. Looks like your fires are burning out already. What did you do?"

The news reporter shoved his mic under my chin.

I slapped it out of my way.

"Turn off the electrical!" I screamed.

I watched as the light bulb went off, so to speak. People ran for their main breakers. I guess I wasn't the in only house where the toaster ruled the morning.