I keep my toaster unplugged when I’m not using it. It’s amazing the things you inherit from your mother, and this is one of them. It’s not genetic because up until my mid-twenties I used to keep the toaster plugged in all the time like a perfect heathen, despite my mother’s constant warnings that a plugged in toaster might suddenly combust and burn the house down.
I unplug my toaster now. But it’s not because I’m afraid my toaster is going to burn down my apartment. It’s because if my apartment burns down and they find out that my toaster had something to do with it, then Mom will be able to tell me (after an appropriate amount of sympathy and consoling), “But you know, chickadee: I told you so.“