When my mom replaced my ancient and stained mattress in elementary school, I apologized to it through tears, absolutely wracked with guilt for abandoning it. Whether because of the repeat viewings or my own wild imagination, as a kid, I deeply believed (and feared) that my belongings were alive. Propelled by love of Master and a fear of being forgotten, they endure many trials on the dangerous road to the city. The story thrilled and terrified me: five outdated appliances-a two-slice toaster, an electric blanket, a vacuum, an AM radio, and a desk lamp-undertake a long and harrowing journey from the family summer cabin where they’ve been left behind to the city apartment where their “Master” now resides.

My grandma would rent it from the library at the base of the hill near her house and show it all summer long. Aside from The Lion King, which I watched every day after school in fourth grade, and Keeping the Promise, a made-for-TV adaption of one of my favorite childhood books, The Brave Little Toaster was my most-rewatched film. The old televisions filled us both with a deep nostalgia for the VHS tapes that captivated us as kids. Eli lay on the floor transported to a pre-internet state of calm, when all our pastimes sat physically in front of us, finite, instead of behind a screen, infinite. These machines, a significant part of my partner’s childhood, changed the whole timbre of the room. Once again, Eli pored over manuals to slowly and carefully restore the long-forgotten devices. The second is a much more substantial General Electric 20GT360 with a separate Panasonic AG-1000B VHS cassette player. One is a small silver Memorex MVT2135B 13’’ with a built-in VCR. The gaming systems were soon followed by two CRT (cathode-ray tube) televisions. Decades-old dust floated in the sunlight.

Our living room table quickly transformed into a repair shop covered in Game Boy parts, tweezers, tools, and cleaning supplies, with the consistent thrum of YouTube tutorials in the background.

It started with discovering their childhood box of gaming systems in their parents’ attic. My partner recently became consumed with finding a VCR.

The brave little toaster clown