Kidnapped! Or Worse!

Dear Gremlin/Entity/Dimension that is stealing my little spoons,

Would you quit already?

When we moved in here five years ago, we were given as a wedding gift a perfectly lovely set of flatware. If memory serves me correctly, we had eight of each: big spoon, litle spoon, big fork, little fork, and knives.

They were a happy family, nestled contently in their cozy organizer. Sure, the pasta grabber would get obnoxious once in a while, but they were happy just where they were. For years, they stuck together.

That is, until you came along.

It was a gradual process, this losing of the spoons. You were so sneaky that I didn't notice at first, since I don't even use the little spoons very often. But then, Mr. Personality grew out of his need for baby spoons, and the little spoons were the logical next choice. It started off fine, but we went down somehow to six. Then I "forgot" to give one back my sister, and then we were back at seven. We went down to five at one point, and now we only have four.

Where have you taken my spoons, and more importantly, why? It isn't like they hold all that much, and if I was you and possibly using them to dig an escape tunnel to somewhere, I would recommend the big spoons as being much more efficient.

There are truly a finite number of places where little spoons can be, and trust me, I have looked in all of them. Ok, I admit to not looking under my mattress, but I think most people would give me a pass on that one.

The forks have gone nowhere, so don't even try and blame them.

Please return them to the flatware drawer, no questions asked. And please do it quickly, because the plastic ones we have resorted to stealing borrowing from Baja Fresh just aren't cutting it.

Thank you,
Gina

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Onward

The end of the school year, finally! Did I tell you that my son went to public school this past year? Did I tell you that my daughter was in a regular Kinder classroom this year? Although it was nice to have them both in school, there were definitely things I was not so hip on, such as having to wake up at 5:20 every morning just to get everyone out the door on time.  And then after all the driving and dropping off, going to work. Such fun! I had forgotten the dreariness of having to complete mounds and mounds of homework (even though new research has shown that homework, especially for Kinder, is for shit).  Of constant deadlines and fundraisers and things I am supposed to volunteer for. My daughter had a good year, but was definitely not without its bumps. Her teacher, an older, highly experienced, practical woman with a Master's in Education, kept referring to my daughter as an "inclusion student."  It wasn't her name or just "student" but was...
Read more

Apples and Oranges

Perhaps some of you may have noticed, but the real estate market is beginning a tumble in prices that benefit us, prospective buyers. And we're going to wait. That is cold, cold comfort to those such as J and Py , who are attempting to sell their place as we speak. But, we're not going to wait too much longer, if that makes them feel any better. There is no sense trying to time the bottom of the market, and we have been putting off moving, oh, since Mr. P was born because of the huge runup in prices. So huge that at one point, we could barely afford to buy our own place from ourselves. We should be ok even if we sell at a lower price than we could have gotten say, two years ago. We have, however, a dilemma. We have narrowed our choices down to two cities. And we are stuck there. We just can't figure out which city is better, and they are oh-so-different. Let me give you a rundown. City 1 Older, smaller houses (in our price range) Larger lots Beach city Infrastructure...
Read more

D-A-N-G

As with all young children, for a very long time we parents rely on the old "spell the word out" trick for talking about things in front of them that we don't want them to know. Well, our time seems just about up. Hubba-hubba was trying to tell me about an upcoming event in which Santa would be making an appearance. As Mr. P is very much into Christmas this year, we knew that any mention of Santa would bring a long soliliquoy about how Santa is magic and how he makes the toys and how he has a list and on and on and on. And at that moment, we just didn't feel like hearing it. Don't judge people, don't judge. So, Hubba-hubba spelled out "S-A-N-T-A." "Hey, what did you just say?" said the five year old. "Nothing" lied replied his father. "I know what you said, Daddy! You said Santa!" Anybody know a place that sells semaphore flags?
Read more