Sex and Cold Toast

I was buttering my toast on Saturday morning and I got to thinking about the different attitudes shown by men and women towards that humble breakfast staple, the slice of toast. (I suppose that since one doesn't actually slice toast it would be more accurate to say "... the toasted slice of bread" but I hope that you'll forgive the lapse in precision.)

Most women I know are perfectly willing to leave the browned bread in the toaster until it cools, then wave a lightly buttered knife over the centre of the toast, wait a few more minutes and then put some cold jam on it. After about half an hour, this seems to comprise a perfectly acceptable snack.

In contrast, most men I know hover over the toaster ready to grab the toast it the moment it pops up, transfer it quickly to the plate (preferably heated), spread it evenly with butter or equivalent making sure that the entire slice (including the crust) is covered, then add Vegemite, peanut paste, jam or honey from a pre-opened jar and start eating immediately, even before completely segmenting the toast into manageable pieces. Anything longer than twelve seconds for this entire process is considered unacceptable.

My youngest brother is probably the world record holder for the delivery of toast from toaster to tooth. In the days when he used to eat butter, his greatest frustration was that there was no way to actually get butter onto the toast while it was still in the toaster. Now, for dietary reasons, he has disavowed the yellow spread and so has an unfair advantage over the rest of mankind but I think my son would be a fairly strong contender for the title.

Why should it be that women are content with the cold, dry, brittle toast which is such an anathema to men? Why do women not appreciate the joy of moist, piping hot toast? I shall try to answer these questions, just as soon as I have solved the problem of global warming.

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