Whisky Business

So no one can completely understand what it is like to live the life of a simple kitchen whisk! Let me try to fill you in the best that I can. Life for me started out in the whisk factory where I was formed and created along with millions of other whisks of all colors and sizes. We all looked the same but had our own personalities. I had to pass so many pressures and tests that it is a wonder I am where I am today. From the factory I was put into a huge box with my fellow whisks. We thought that was great. All together in a comfortable home. We entered the wonderful world of new and shiny objects that love to strut their stuff. It was like a competition sitting on a peg coaxing every chef and cook to pick me. Now I am a battered old whisk and have been around for quite some time. I currently live among the mismatched knives and rusty can openers and other dangerous fellas. I never complain about the living situation or fellow drawer mates.

The drawer that we call home can become quite crowded as more and more crazy individuals get added to our abode. I sometimes get snagged by the garden vegetable peeler or the spinning pizza cutter as they are shoved into any open spaces. It is like a halfway house. Some characters are here for a long time and never get pulled from the drawer. Take for example the plastic straw with a pink flamingo attached. No one seems that interested in that contraption. That poor gal just sits there looking pretty and pink.

Some of occupants are here for very short periods. I am taIking one day. The excitement in the main house is overwhelming when some of these folks arrive. Chatter about the new and exciting individual rings throughout the multiple drawers and dish filled cupboards. Then, without warning, they are pulled out and crazy noises occur. Something terrible happens and the ambiance in the main house is filled with loud silence. Then we hear the awful noise of the compactor. Those individuals never return to the drawer so we really never understand what happened and what became of them. We all just assume. Terrifying. Maybe we shouldn't assume, but kind of hard not to.

I actually have been here the longest. So many individuals have come and gone, but I always return to the drawer. I feel as though my job is quite universal. I am trusted and respected by the supervisors and individuals that manage the kitchen who have approached me to help out in so many different scenarios. I love the smooth and fragrant baths that I can frolic in, but sometimes the temperature is a bit too steamy and hot! I get moving around in a rhythm that is comforting, when all of a sudden I spin out of control! The bath becomes thicker and harder to get through, but still the spinning endures. I often want to give up, but the bath becomes exactly what the manager wants and my job ends. That can be quite exhausting, yet fulfilling at the same time.

Then there are the times I feel the soft and powdery substance which is luxurious. I love how it covers my wires and then falls delicately back into the mound in the vessel. I could do that all day. It never lasts long enough. Without warning the deluge of slow falling liquid enters and the powder becomes huge globs of sticky messes. That stuff sticks all over me and I get banged up against the side of the vessel time and time again. That really smarts! Sometimes the culprit is so tough that I get bent out of shape. Do I yell and scream? Do I fight back? No, I just keep on swishing and eventually the crap gets off and my wires are uncrossed. One of my all time favorite activities is with young toddlers.. They are so curious and full of life. When I hear the pitter patter of those stocking feet heading to the drawer, I wait with loving anticipation that I am the one they choose. What joy I feel when I am lifted up and out of the crumb filled section of the drawer. Their tiny hands hold on so tight to me that I feel loved. It's cream time! The toddlers love to help make whipped cream and I am the star! They need me!! Round and round I go in the milky sauce with added sugar and sweeteners. Of course they need a bit of help from their grandmother or Meemaw, who speeds things up. Voila!!! Creamy goodness that sticks to my wires. And then comes the tiny tongue! So soft and gentle and a bit ticklish, this toddler uses their tongue to help remove this creamy goodness! We have a win win!!

Then I enter the bubbly soapy pool and boy do I love that! It feels so good. Once in a while I get placed in this huge contraption that feels weird. I get stuck in there for several hours never really knowing what to expect. Surrounded by many individuals of different shapes, colors and sizes we sit not saying anything to anyone else when all of a sudden it starts to rain! We have no where to go! Then we are splashed from the underside with smelly soap and hot water. The whole place becomes a sauna! Stuffy and uncomfortable! Then rain again! when we start asking each other "What in the world is going on?" it is over. Steamy and hot until the front end opens and a breath of fresh air envelopes us all.

Then back to the drawer's darkness. It actually feels rewarding to return to the drawer. This is a safe haven even though there are many with sharp personalities, rough around the edges and not always the cleanest. Coming home! We have learned how to cohabitate in spite of our differences. This is where we converse quietly about the adventures we have just emerged from as the light is eliminated with the closing of the drawer. We learn from one another and look forward to another day of adventure in the kitchen.