Pioneer

I was pretty excited about my lunch today–leftover Italian chicken parmesan from the dinner I made last night. At least, I was excited until I pulled it out of the fridge and remembered we no longer have a microwave.

I still managed to heat it up, of course. It’s just that first I had to find an oven safe dish, then I had to resign myself to eating 20 minutes later, as opposed to right now, which is what society has conditioned me to demand. I consoled myself with a glass of chocolate milk.

The thing is, the fact that we don’t have a microwave right now is our choice. Oh, it’s still there, mounted above the stove, an ugly industrial feature in our home. What is it with mounting microwaves up with the cabinets as if they are part of the aesthetic value of the kitchen? It just screams middle America, which we all know I’m allergic to.

A few weeks ago, the microwave stopped working. And when we went to buy a new one, we weren’t impressed by the styles or the prices. So we just…didn’t buy a new one. I started thinking maybe I’d rather have an oven hood, one of those fancy bronze colored deals that matches the tiled backsplash and new countertops I dream about.

Anyway, who needs a microwave? Ma and Pa Ingalls certainly didn’t. And since long before I wore my hair in one braid and idolized Katniss, I wore my hair in two braids and wished I was Half-Pint, I decided to put my pioneer skills to good use.

Now every morning when I wake up, I pour my 1/3 cup of half-caf coffee into a cup and add 3/4 cup milk. Then instead of microwaving it for 45 seconds, I actually pour it all into a pan and heat it up on the stove. (this recipe is copyrighted, so don’t even try to steal it).

Sometimes, I even have to wash the pan first. I KNOW. It’s like the dark ages. You might think I would just give up the measly 1/3 cup of diluted caffeine and get on with my life. But no; somehow that would be too simple.

I’m becoming quite good at the pioneer thing, though. The next thing you know I will be scrubbing all our clothes by hand and calling people on the telephone when I want to talk to them. Oh wait.

Sorry, it’s just that sometimes it’s hard to remember what life was like before my iPhone. I mean, how did people heat up their coffee in a pan on the stove without checking their Twitter feed to pass the time?

The Ingalls’ family pauses for a quick family photo while they wait for their coffee to heat up in a pan on the stove.

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