I recently posted a tongue-in-cheek remark on Facebook to remind those who share my household with me to round-up wayward cups and glasses and forks and return them to the kitchen. The post proclaimed an emergency of Nursery Rhyme proportions for it had appeared the drinking glass had run away with the fork. This set me to thinking. The Dish and Spoon have been cavorting around for generations. This we know even from childhood. It would only stand to reason then that the other utensils and dinnerware, left to their own devices would eventually take a shine to one another. This called for further inspection.
In my case, the dishes have settled down and remained rather loyal. Teaspoons and sugar spoons however are of a sneaky sort and have managed to slowly slip away. I determined this was due in large part to the fact that they were well covered by their elders, the soup spoons and tablespoons. Those being larger in shape and size and of less demand in my household were able to camouflage the fact that the little ones were slowly becoming of short supply. This then led to an inspection of knives. Those are most certainly of gypsy heritage.
Any knife with a sharp or serrated edge was missing from their places. No matter how you might spoil them by giving them their own special place of residence such as a butcher’s block or individual sheafs, own personal drawer etc., they will not be satisfied. Their destiny is to travel. They have been known to take over the job of their odd cousins, the scissors (who are never wont to stay put) and thereby make their way to various and sundry sections of the house, yard and boats. Once they have traveled to a far-flung destination, they are rarely returned until or unless some bored soul is taking up a deep cleaning or looking for something else and stumble upon them (more likely the case). The sharp knife’s brother is the butter knife. Rarely used for its real purpose, the butter knife has come to think of itself as a tool and continues to suffer under that delusion. It travels to any location where a flathead screw can be found in need of adjusting and there will remain.
The fork is a complete enigma. It can only be determined that it has a wanderlust. The fork can travel to the far reaches of a bedroom in the middle of the night or scattered around the living room, especially during Football season. Having reached a location, it tends to slip away to sometimes be found underneath a chair or in the corner of a bedroom in fruitless attempts at escape. However, the rapid fire manner in which forks have been leaving the kitchen is rivaled only by the drinking glass. This led to my conclusion that they are in cahoots.
The drinking glass is by far the number one violator and should the fork be seeking escape, could pick no better accomplice. Glasses are criminals. I have actually watched them walk out my front door in quite bold and brazen fashion. Despite my cries for return or threats of the consequence, they continue on their way without a care in the world. I can understand how the fork would be impressed. These drinking vessels are the true world-class travelers, and adventurous sort, and go in style. They take long and short car rides. They visit various work places. They are known to travel on boats and take long walks. Glasses enjoy a good party, though often left outside to the forces of nature or found precariously perched on a mantle piece or languishing on a bathroom sink, forgotten and forlorn. Clearly they enjoy video games as well. After all these exhausting activities, they do need their rest and are most often found in sleeping quarters in large groups, some left with a vestige of beverage still and others completely spent laying on their sides in the throes of death. They do lead a dangerous life. Many will perish, broken or cracked. Others will be left to roll around in vehicle floors and boat decks, unwanted, ignored and imprisoned under beds or worse, shivering in the grass and sprinkled with dirt in the back yard. Cheap reinforcements are brought in constantly, but alas they all leave eventually, unable to stay put. It is their very nature.
After my son walked in the house returning the lost jars of peanut butter and jelly, I was intrigued to consider the pantry. True as I said, the food was also making a run for it. You can always count on canned tomatoes and any type of bean, as well as most types of vegetables to remain loyal. Though spices may make their way to the backyard grill on occasion, by and large they are not ones to wander off. Bread however, will lead a tragic existence. Though it has been known to leave in bulk, it is most likely left with the end pieces and those other pieces closest to it, to grow hard, edgy and mold covered. It has to constantly be monitored. Canned soups, pastas and the like never stay the course.
The refrigerator is a burial ground. For some odd reason, when a bottle of ketchup reaches near the end or one swallow is left in a juice container, it is abandoned. Anything with just a drop left will be branded a pariah and left in their weakened states to simply die until I make my way in to give them proper burials. Leftovers suffer the worst fate. Once wrapped in shiny tinfoil or placed in neat little plastic containers it is akin to a burial shroud. Leftovers are shown no respect and get pushed and jockeyed to far corners where they become forgotten and left to rot. Any kind of luncheon meat will suffer a quick death, along with their freezer counterparts, pizza and french fries. Pickles, olives, salad dressings, barbecue and steak sauces will retain their places near the back of the structure and serve only to keep the refrigerator company and give it a false sense of security. Fruits will suffer a horrible fate along with their counter parts, fresh vegetables. They will languish for days until someone comes across their shriveled appearance in disgust at which point they are merely complained about, but rarely given a proper send off. Any type of drinking beverage is a dead man walking. If it survives a day, it can be considered elderly.
In defense of the utensils and dinnerware making a getaway, maybe they are just trying to get home. After all they are most often left in the drainer in a bleak society where these different cultures are forced to exist together in morbid despair. It is rare that they are properly returned to their rightful places of birth and natural that they should rebel. It’s only fair to consider the circumstance when accusing household items of dessertion.
Finally, as in my Facebook post, with all of this condemnation of wayward kitchen occupants, there are those who deserve a commendation, praise and to be uplifted as examples to those who would revolt. My final perusal of this society left me to come to rest on some items of the house which always remain in place, most often untouched and rarely regarded with respect. So today I am honored to award the Mop, Broom, Dishrag, Dustrag and Lawnmower the distinguished Household Medal of Valor. These are the heads of state and military affairs of the household. Those trusty items will never leave, nor will they be persuaded to. They stand at the ready to serve and perform their duties, though sadly are rarely called upon. Their steadfast companions and army of cleaning chemicals and supplies also receive sound recognition for their support and allegiance.
Consider your inanimate household today. It is indeed a world unto itself which receives little to no respect from the human society with which it shares its very existence.
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