I'm one of those people who is perpetually thinking she left her purse somewhere. Sometimes I'll swallow two Advil and five minutes later won't be able to remember if I've taken any or not. It's sick, I tell you.
The other day I put three ears of corn on the cob onto a plate, covered it with plastic wrap and placed it in the microwave. I figured I'd leave it in there until Hubby was on his way home and it would be all ready to go.
Having a nasty little habit of occasionally being non-committal, (See there? I can't even commit to calling myself non-committal) as a bride-to-be I had difficulty deciding which color of fiestaware I wanted to register for.
As I was waiting for Hubby to come home, I pulled out two orange plates and noticed something strange. I saw two red dishes, two orange, two green, one yellow, and, hey wait a minute...one yellow? Had we really only received one set of yellow? No, I saw two yellow mugs, two yellow bowls, where the heck was the other yellow plate?
The sink was empty, so the plate wasn't dirty. Unless...I opened the fridge in the hopes of discovering the plate, perhaps snuggling with a mountain of moldy, long-forgotten leftovers, but nope, I found nothing of the sort.
Ever persistent (loved ones might say neurotic), I returned once more to the cabinet, hoping this time perhaps I would find the plate had only been hiding. Sadly, this was not the case. What the?
Eventually Hubby returned home and I filled him in on our curious dishware situation. Had we accidentally thrown out one yellow plate, in some random drunken stupor? (I fear this may have happened already with one of our steak knives, though it's never been confirmed.) Had the plate been missing from the set to begin with, and were we only now realizing this, nearly two years later? Honestly, were we really that flaky?
While we were eating dinner (grilled chicken and veggies over spinach salad), I suddenly remembered the corn and ran to the kitchen and turned on the microwave. A few minutes later I checked on it and decided it needed another minute or so.
I returned to the living room and tried to enjoy my meal, but I just couldn't let the mystery of the yellow fiesta plate go. "Where in the frigg could it have gone?" I mused. Had the dishware fairy come and snatched it away while we were slumbering? Had it gone to a better place, to dishware Heaven, perhaps?
"Ding!" Our corn was ready. I went back to the kitchen, opened the microwave, and screamed like a banshee.
Hubby and I really had ourselves a good old chuckle. We nearly fell over laughing, actually. Dearest Reader, it's quite official: your friend the Odd Broad is losing her mind, one piece of fiestaware at a time.
Have you eaten dinner yet? Would you like some corn on the cob?