Three years ago my friend Shelley got a KitchenAid artisan mixer at her bridal shower. It was the grand finale of all the gifts she opened that afternoon.

Everyone oohed and aahed.

Someone said, “Girl, I got one of those for my wedding and it is gonna change your life.” Other women nodded in agreement. I’d never heard of this rite of marital passage.

Since then, every time I use my dinky little hand mixer that smells like melted plastic if you use it too long, I’ve wondered if I would ever own one of those amazing life-changing mixers.

And then Brian finally proposed.

That day I said to my cousin, only half jokingly, “Yay, I get a mixer!” She had one on her registry too. And sure enough the second thing I did after joining The Knot was go on the Macy’s website and see what color mixer I wanted. Kidding. It was probably the fifth or sixth thing I did.

So a couple weeks ago my mom called me and told me to take the mixer off my registry because she found a good deal and she got it for me in red. She’s never been big on surprises. Or saving gifts for their intended occasions.

Since I’m shameless enough to admit my lust for this kitchen appliance you shouldn’t be surprised to learn that I took photos of the unboxing as if it were a MacBook Air. I haven’t done any benchmarking tests against my hand mixer, but hopefully this as-yet-unnamed beauty will blow it out of the water.

Because that burning smell always makes me nervous.

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