It Was a Wedding Present!

My mom and dad were married over 60 years.  Over the course of years that I lived at home and then would come back to visit we would have many dishes to wash and put away (my mom always said she had five dishwashers:  Louise, Beth, Alison, Gert, and Zona....). Throughout the years I would wonder why she had so many platters and bowls and serving dishes.  She would say, "Oh that was my mother's." or "That was my Aunt _____." or - my favorite:  "That was a wedding present." which was usually followed by the name of the person from whom they received said dish -- or better yet:  that awful looking vase we had full of lilacs at the funeral!  I am pretty sure the giver is not reading this blog, so it's safe to say a few of my siblings said it was a very ugly vase. I never really noticed how ugly it was - it was just a fixture in the cupboard and, in the spring, on a table with lilacs in it.  I digress:

Scooter and I will celebrate 16 years of wedded bliss next month and I am still washing and putting away dishes, now in my own home (I have three dishwashers:  one that works without complaint and the other two that are less than enthusiastic).  Every now and then one of my daughters asks me "Where did you get this?" and I can usually tell a story about where it came from:  "Oh that was my mother's."  or "That was my Aunt _____."  "That was your dad's grandmother's" and of course, my personal favorite: "That was a wedding present." and, like my mother, I remember most of the time who gave it to us. Yesterday as Elyse and I were enjoying our bachelorette lifestyle, we made pasta for dinner. Then night before, I had used the colander to drain something and noticed that the bottom was cracking.  I thought little of it. Last night I dumped our pasta with shrimp and broccoli into the colander and in the next second exclaimed an expletive that should not be shared on a family blog.  The bottom of the colander and given way completely - and most of our dinner was now in the garbage disposal. I was able to salvage enough for us to eat and now, sadly, after 16 years of service, I need to replace the colander:  a wedding present from one of my very favorite aunt's, my Aunt Helen.  16 years of service from a plastic colander:  not bad.  The Pampered Chef food chopper from one of my favorite sisters-in-law, Susette, is also on the replacement list.   But the afghan my Aunt Helen crocheted me will never need replacing.