Dear Martha.

Dear Martha, of Martha Stewart Collection,

My son broke my egg timer while he was pretending it was part of his “airplane,” which was actually an empty diaper box:

This saddened me deeply, not because I used my timer that much, but because it was shiny and looked nice in my kitchen. My mother thoughtfully bought me a new one, shown here. It’s your 60 Minute Timer, purchased from Macy’s.

I had a little trouble … you see, I first tried prying open the plastic case with my hands. This was hopeless. So then I got after it with a pair of kitchen scissors.

Eventually I got desperate and angry and used my teeth, as you can see. Not my most lady like moment, but I did manage to pry off everything but the top part. 

It was at this point that I almost gave up and asked my husband for help.

But then, I looked at that tiny, smug, picture of you on the front of the package, next to that picture of a perfectly iced cupcake, and I ripped the rest of that crap off.

It nearly took me 60 minutes to open, so I want you to know that you have done a fantastic job of naming this product. It is indeed the 60 Minute Timer. WELL DONE. So far I dislike it very much.


One thought on “Dear Martha.

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