HUGE sigh...
these are the remnants of one of my very favorite bowls.
i dug them out of the trash this morning after they're burial last night.
recap:
i'm laying in bed (9:30ish) - lights out.
i was completely exhausted.
with j in the living room catching up on tivo, it was a rare opportunity to be falling asleep WITHOUT the t.v. on in the room. (heaven)
i was so relaxed and getting ready to drift off to sleep...
and then i heard it.
a loud crash and the sound of something "spinning" on the floor.
at first, i didn't get up.
nothing sounded like it was broken.
with j being the only one awake i knew he'd handle it.
but then there was that distinct sound...
the one i know all too well.
it was the sound of broken remnants being put in the garbage can.
uh oh?
what got broken?
how serious is this?
my mind immediately kicks into high gear with a checklist of possible casualties:
my grandmother's fruit bowl
my "special" casserole dish
my favorite bowl?...
wait!!!
...MY FAVORITE BOWL?!
j had forewarned me earlier in the evening that once the kids were in bed he'd be sneaking some ice cream - even though our new rule is dessert once a week). *clearing throat with disappoval*
so...
i make my way to the kitchen, my heart beating with anticipation.
i start the interrogation:
me: "what broke?"
him: "a bowl?"
me: "what bowl?"
him: "just one of the bowls. i don't know. a green one." (SUCH a typical guy answer)
me: "which green one?"
him: "just a round green bowl."
me: "the wavy green one?" (praying it was this one because i personally don't like it much).
him: "um...no. i don't think it was wavy. it was just round."
me: "my favorite bowl with polka dots on it?"
him: "i don't think so."
i say nothing at this point.
i'm fearing the worst.
and as i peer into the bottom of the trash can -
my suspicions are confirmed.
my favorite hand-made, hand-painted bowl from gail pittman!
a bowl i acquired many years ago when i was a southern living at HOME consultant.
(that's a whole other story...)
the emotions kicked in...no tears. just frustration.
this was the 2nd favorite bowl of mine that has been broken over the last year. (by j) *wink*
the other bowl was also a southern living product called the "tiny bubbles bowl".
ANYWAY...
i didn't say much.
i was REALLY sad about it.
i reminded him it was the 2nd favorite of mine he'd broken. (he didn't even remember the first)
and i figured that was enough said.
it was a complete accident for crying out loud!
so i quietly crept back into bed.
silly, i know, but it was difficult for me to fall back asleep.
thoughts about my TWO favorite bowls spinning around my head.
reflecting on both of their roles over the years, (birthday parties, celebrations, late-night snacks, etc.)
but it's JUST a bowl!
right?
i'm not materialistic, so i don't normally place a lot of value on tangible items.
but if the items have sentimental value then WATCH OUT.
(like the fruit bowl i have that my grandmother made and painted).
thank goodness it wasn't THAT.
i should just be grateful it wasn't THAT...
right?
this bowl doesn't have ANY sentimental significance.
so WHY am i so attached to it?
i LOVE handmade pottery.
i LOVED the polka dots clearly produced by hand with a brush.
i LOVED the little imperfections you don't find with manufactured items.
i don't know...
the bowl just made me HAPPY when i ate from it.
it made whatever i was eating seem even better/more beautiful.
so...
although i'm sad about it, it's time to move on.
i mean really!
no one in their right mind would dedicate an entire blog post about a broken bowl...
...let alone do a special photo shoot for the broken remnants.
that'd just be CRAZY!
it was JUST a bowl...
right?
*wink*
Keeping It Real:
I'm really trying not to have an aversion towards ice cream now.
If you think about it...(which I obviously have),
it's ONLY because of the ice cream addiction j has that put my bowl in harm's way! *wink*
