A Toast to Toast


I know that I have your undivided attention. Lets think about toast for a minute shall we? As a child, one the first things I remember eating was toast. Sitting at the table in my kitchen, my mom gave me a slice of the white stuff with butter and I scarfed it down. Isn’t weird that you have inane memories like that instead of the time that I got stranded in a snow covered wheat field in Canada when the rope that was attached to my sled that was attached to an ATV snapped and I was out there for a go 10 minutes (6 hours in children time.) Or like the time that I got frostbite so bad on my cheeks that my scars still appear when I get too hot. I’m sure the two stories are related but the point is why I can’t remember stuff like that instead of toast? I know this isn’t necessarily deep but just a thought.

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