Saturday, December 13, 2014

My Kitchen

I have my own personal chef. Lately he's been frustrating me because he's been serving meals on the gold-plated china when I much prefer the casual dishes—the ones that have the pictures of cartoon felines on them.

Just now he's offered a genuine apology with a reassurance that he doesn't want to hurt my feelings. "I see the destructiveness of the gold-plated dishes," he said. "I'll inform the rest of my team so that if any of them need to fill in for me, they'll know to stay away from those."

I'll be honest. My kitchen is not especially clean. Sometimes it's hard to find things. There's an island in the middle. The salt and pepper shakers got stranded inside a cupboard in there. Parker and I put them there because we wanted to keep them away from the mangoes. Then he left to play poker all night and I got preoccupied with trying to find my preserves. I think I had them out in the open for a while but various catastrophes meant they had to be put in a much less obvious location. I believe my chef might be able to help me find them.

The dishwasher's helpful. I haven't always had one. The sink is so deep that when I put my hand into the sudsy water I can never be sure if I'm going to cut my hand on some sharp knife or broken wine glass. I'll probably make some astonishing discoveries in my sink. It's the depth of it that makes it amazing and frightening at the same time. There's a decorative mirror above it now that I hope will somehow help me find more things around my kitchen.

And from my kitchen I can see the television. When the Super Mario Bros. cartoon comes on it brings negative effects.

Before all the disasters my kitchen seemed wealthier, full of vigor and shine. Now it's different, but I'll just have to work with what I have. I think making it more Christmas-oriented in here is an exquisite idea.


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