Brave Little Toasters- Isabelle Rinker

 I'm always warm, in a good way. I am particularly warm today, on this 30-so degree day. It is six in the morning, on a Monday, and my owner's alarm goes off. She reaches for her phone sitting on the nightstand beside me and turns it off, readjusting herself among my covers. “Just five more minutes,” she whispers to herself, as she doses off again. “Then I'll get up.”

A mere thirty minutes later and my owner has awoken, gasping and heading toward the bathroom when she looks at the time. Where are you going? I croak. No, don't leave me. She spends about fifteen minutes in the shower and comes back in a towel and soaking wet hair.

You're back! I shriek. Come back. Come back into my covers. She makes her way back under my covers and falls into a deep sleep.

“Isabelle!” her mother yells from afar. “We're leaving now!”