Almost an Adult: Not everyone will get your version of Life and that's ok.

This all started with a microwave.

In all honesty, the microwave alone couldn't have motivated me to write this post. So I guess you can say it's the microwave and my current "almost an adult" mindset that led me to sit down to write a story about this incident.


Recently, a microwave conked out on us. (Fact: This is my first time writing the verb "conk", although I have definitely thought and probably verbalized it before.) During one of its daily lunchtime usages, it stopped mid-whirl and the neon green numbers vanished without warning. It could not be tricked into working again even with the good ol' "unplug and plug back in" technique. So that was it. R.IP. white microwave from 2001.

My father's first thought was to purchase a brand new microwave. Sure, that would be the way to go when one of your kitchen appliances come to the end of their life. But I reminded him that we had a perfectly usable microwave downstairs. (Why we have 2 microwaves is a totally different story.) However, this microwave is black.

Now before anyone starts to think about the possible symbolism behind the white vs. black microwaves. No. No. No. There are no symbolic connotations and no hidden racist messages. Black and white are simply standard microwave colours and we happened to have one of each.

So the black microwave is moved up from its bat cave into our kitchen. It fit in the shelf that the previous microwave had occupied and it worked without a hitch. In fact, the blacksplash in our kitchen has black and white tiles so the "new" colour of the microwave didn't stand out that badly. Although our cupboards and fridge were white, we had black accents throughout the kitchen. The black microwave fit right in along with our black toaster, black Keurig machine, black electronic can opener and black garbage can. Everyone was fine with this new arrangement and happy that such a fundamental part of our kitchen was back.

But on the same day, my dad went out to buy a brand new white microwave and the black microwave was banished to the cold basement once more.

When I saw my dad come home with a new microwave I immediately started arguing with the "if it ain't broke don't fix it" reasoning combined with some "who cares what colour it is?!". But while I was reminding him that the old microwave still matches the existing colour scheme, I began to think of what the colour of the microwave really means.

I didn't care about the colour of the microwave as long as it worked, and I would've chosen to use the extra microwave to be frugal. But who am I to tell him that his ideals for his kitchen were unpractical or even vain? His stubbornness for his white microwave could be seen as him standing by what he sees as his ideal kitchen. This stubbornness, along with his insistence about other things about his home, whether it be basement space, decorative tea sets, crystal vases... all theses displays of being a proud home owner in general should not be put into a discussion about right and wrong.

If buying a white microwave was going to give him peace about his kitchen, why not? Buying a new version of something can not solve most of life's problems, but in this case, it did. For my dad it did. It was not my battle, it was not my life. We all have our own version of life that we strive to live.

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Whether it be microwaves or kitchen colour schemes, I know that my "almost an adult" self often gets sucked in these battles. I struggle with these little details from others' lives, namely my family, I'm trying to figure my way out of "almost adulthood". Why does this and that matter? I question their values and their insistence on certain aspects of their life, when really, I should question my tendency to fall on this tactic. Does it make me feel better to play the comparison game with our different versions of what we call "Life"? No.

It's hard to figure out what you want. And doubly as hard to know how to ask for you want in life. To know that you want that white microwave and be able to get it for yourself is harder than it looks. But this incident (well, technically an accumulation of many similar incidents) has also taught me that it's hard to come to terms that everyone has different wants, about everything in Life. The microwave's importance is not part of my version of life and that's ok. I'm sure he thinks that about my running. XP

Likewise, I will not preach to him about my love for running, why I actually enjoy volunteering and hope to keep volunteering regularly in my life as an employed adult. I will try not to express blatant disregard for his desire to make loading the dishwasher into an assignment in strategic warfare. I won't spread my collection of used books into other rooms. I won't try to implement my Pie Fridays in the household because I know a pie every week isn't diabetes' best friend. Not everyone will get my version of Life, and that's ok.