I'm relishing this moment. It's before 7am and my wifey is out exercising. I'm not sure what if anything she ate prior to heading out, but the point is- she didn't use any silverware.
You see for her, everyday is a race to use every single implement she can in order to complete the gastronomical chores necessary for the day. When it's my turn to do the dishes, my go to lines are, "Did you host a dinner party I wasn't invited to?" or "Did you borrow silverware from the neighbors today?" (These are good lines, in case you're wondering- and I authorize you to use them as you see fit.)
So I'll go to the drawer for a spoon- of course there's no spoons in the drawer. Need a knife? Well hopefully there's a clean one in the drain, or I'll have to do a quick wash of the seemingly dozens in the sink.
It may seem like the easy solution is: more silverware! Never mind that more silver in our New York City dwelling would probably cause the floor in the kitchen to slant even more than it already does- but it would matter. It won't stop her. It will just mean more to wash at the end of the day.
So, with my daughter quietly becoming one with the couch in the living room, the soft glow of Disney Magic eminating from the TV screen, I set about putting away last night's haul of dishes and silverware. And when I finish: All. Of. Our. Silverware. Is. In. The. Drawer. It's like a Bigfoot sighting, people. And like Bigfoot, it will quickly disappear into the mist- I get that. But for one shining(ish) moment the assurance that these things can happen... well I don't want to wax poetic too much. But, maybe one haiku:
Silverware all in.
In the early morning light-
I wink at Bigfoot.