Cookers 'r' us

Time to get the washing out of the machine.

It should be gleaming white and clean.

Then it's time for a little snack.

A time to sit down and rest my back.

Next, it will be time to hoover all around,

 and plant my feet firmly on the ground.

It will then be time to cook the dinner on my 1950's Baby Belling.

Where did I get that majestic cooker......I'm not telling.

It's a cooker that will never be sold, because in my house, nothing ever gets throw away.

That beautiful cooker is here to stay.

But that's OK, because I've got used to the temperature gauge.

After all, burning roasts, cakes, potatoes and  meat could become all the rage.

|It's funny when you think about it, the cooker is only six years younger than me.

In time, you would have thought that it would have been kind to me.

But alas, just like its mistress it has a mind of its own and is unpredictable,

and it cooking a decent scone will be a b....y miracle.

We've got a microwave now, in order to help my cooker along.

Believe me, I'm not making the cooker redundant, that would just be wrong.

It's there to take the strain,

when my brown/beige cooker is playing up again.

Well, better get off and put my favourite cooker on.

I'm putting in a container that just needs heating up,

surely that can't go wrong.

She says tongue in cheek.

Hopefully, being over fifty, it's reached its peak.

I'm hoping that in the twilight years of its life,

it will give us something edible.

Something that will not cause any strife.

Now that I've dissed it, I'm hoping things won't go horribly wrong.

I'll just have to be careful when I turn it on.

Yeah Right!