And then I bought a huge box of Pop-Tarts from Sam's.

A beloved toaster has died of an undetermined illness and/or old age. (The deceased was four years old, unless it was actually the previous property of someone's older brother, and then it was more likely five.) The miraculous unnamed appliance was often fondly used during the groggy breakfast hours, and was the source of several early morning smoke detector alarms. The toaster is survived by half a loaf of bread, most of a jar of jelly, and a decreased list of breakfast options.