Tuesday, August 12, 2008

In the Name of Forced Family Traditions...



I have these bowls (and if that's not an attention grabber, I don't know what is). I call them the "Grammie Bowls". I don't call them that because they belonged to my grandmother - who I called Grammie. I call them that because they remind me of her. As soon as I saw them I had to have them. This picture doesn't even do them justice. Yes, I'm that excited about my bowls.
Anyway, when I bought them, I immediately called them the Grammie Bowls which left my daughters a little confused, knowing they never belonged to the woman they knew as Grammie. I had to explain to them that when I'm dead - after years of their kids calling me Grammie - and they're baking with their daughters, they'll use these bowls and say, "Oh look...these were Grammie's favorite bowls." And if they have a little chip on them, well they'll be just that much more charming, won't they? In my mind, that's just the sweetest of memories. Rolling their eyes, my girls aren't exactly catching the vision. Brats. But others have. Sometimes when I'm serving chips in them when I have people over, someone might randomly say, "It's the Grammie Bowls!"
They know.

On a side note, I joined this group of women called Operation Baking GALS (GALS standing for Give A Little Support). It started online and over 100 women bake cookies once a month and send them to the troops in Iraq; sharing a little bit of homemade love to those who so deserve it. I'm honored to be part of it. If anyone out there loves to bake and feels like joining, follow that link. :)

So I set out yesterday to bake three different kinds of cookies. I have been told that I make the best oatmeal cookies this side of, well...the moon. So off I go, baking away, when what do I notice? There's a crack in one of the Grammie Bowls!! I turn it over to see if it has cracked all the way through, and it has! I'm pretty much beside myself at this point, filling the bowl with water to see if the crack is going to leak. Luckily it doesn't, but I still am overwhelmed by the tragedy. I hear my oldest daughter come in the house, walk right by the kitchen without stopping in to talk to me, and then head upstairs to her room. By the time I'm over the temporarily paralyzing trauma of finding the crack, I stomp up to my daughters room. She's trying to take a nap and doesn't even open her eyes when I walk in. How can she sleep at a time like this?! My part of the following converasation was in a voice that I'm pretty sure only dogs could hear, but this is how it went...after I stomped across the room to her bed...
"Boo, wake up!! You didn't even come in the kitchen to say hi to me, and I have news!" Not even opening her eyes, she says, "What's wrong?" to which I screech, "THERE'S A CRACK IN ONE OF THE GRAMMIE BOWLS!!"
At this point, she's smart enough to open her eyes and feign concern. "Really? What happened?" I responded (in my dogs are only hearing this voice), "I DON'T KNOW!! I just found a crack in it a little while ago and not a little chip like we thought would be cute and add character but a real crack that goes all the way through and I'm not even close to being dead yet!"
"Wow, that sucks."
"IIIIIIIII KNOWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!" At which point I stomp out of her room.
I get to the hallway, stop in my tracks and yell, "Wait a minuteeeeee......WHICH PART SUCKS?!"
Smartass.

9 comments:

Slim said...

Sorry about your cracked bowl. I had a great ceramic bowl set too. I dropped one of them while drying it and it broke in half. And my husband commandeered one as a planter. I guess we both need a new set of grammie bowls.

brad johnson said...

The bowl cracked and you cracked me up. Not only can I 'hear' your voice, but I can hear 'Boo's.' I can hear the 'I KNOWWWWWW.' I can hear the 'smart ass.'

About Grammie's bowl. I"m fairly sure any yard sale, in pretty much any yard, will have those. Look for homes with country blue and burgundy curtains in the windows.

I'll keep my eye out for ya. Grammie would be proud.

Jenni said...

HA!

Personally, I am glad that you're not dead yet. ;)

I have mixing bowls that actually belonged to my grandma... Josh dropped one and broke it. I was traumatized and almost had a stroke.

I have become the bowl nazi. If he tries to put one in the dishwasher I have a fit, and at one point I almost filed for divorce.

Don't mess with the bowls, damnit.

By the way, I am nominating you for the "Hot Blogger Calendar." Payback's a bitch. ;)

John said...

Hi. Ummm. Yeah.
I love this post, but, well, I've already read it. So, ummm, can we like get another one to read soon?
That would be great.
Thanks.

(sound familiar?)

:)

McSwain said...

LOL at John. I don't think I've commented here before, but I've read...

Angry Asian said...

i'm sorry about your Grammie bowl!

thanks for hosting a troop for Baking Gals this Month.

Brenda said...

I just wanted to say hi! I am the mom to your solider.He is going to love you. I don't know if you got his info and picture,but I will be happy to send it to you..he is a chef lol. I will go sign up for your team=)thanks so much for hearts like yours.

Carmi said...

I feel your pain: I have a small set of favorites in the kitchen. Mugs, bowls, plates, each one of which is attached in some way to an important person in my life.

Of course, when they inevitably break, I get very upset. Still, I'd rather have cherished tchatchkes for a short while than not at all.

Hope you're well, Steph. Looking forward to your blog-return soon!

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