Pampered but not Ordinary

It was a typical Spring afternoon in Willows End, Maine as I could hear and smell subtle glimpses of the approaching season. After last night’s rain, I wondered if the Rock Cress or “Arabis caucasica” if you prefer the fancy name had made its appearance in Lidia’s rock garden just outside the windows. I imagined that it must be around April or May because I heard the delight in Lidia’s voice when she retreated to the pantry for shears. I could tell that she was on her hunt for a special bouquet of early Spring flowers to provide the perfect centerpiece for her sideboard hutch. 

This was also the time of year for hosting tea parties and baby showers. When you showed off your homes and your best true and tried recipes. For just a few moments more, I would lay quietly at attention -- shoulder to shoulder the way a new recruit awaits his marching orders.

I was hoping, as I always did, that I would be chosen today. Don’t we all want to be chosen – noticed, and be selected first? Remember back in grade school and you waited to be picked for kickball?  I mean, no one wants to be picked last. We try not to show the desperation on our faces as the team captains' eye up their options. Do I pick the little boy with freckles and a baseball cap or the skinny girl with an infectious smile? I can only imagine what that really feels like as I can’t actually play kickball or any sport for that matter. I was created for the culinary world and those cooks that appreciate a good kitchen utensil. My days are split between sharing space in the center island drawer in the third slot from the right or the top rack of the dishwasher when I get my cascade scented shower. That’s on a good day.

Would today be a good day? Am I sparkly just enough to catch Lidia’s eye and get her attention?  Will I be chosen today?

 I did what I could to stand out -- without legs or outstretched arms. Fortunately for me, I’m already a stand out if I do say so myself! My beveled-edges, stainless steel skin, arched back and slender black torso body give me a little prominence amongst my roommates or drawer-mates to be exact. In the next moment, the cutlery drawer slowly opened. Rays of sunshine spilled over me and my fellow roommates. The daylight streaming in actually felt good. My slotted eyes said “pick me” although no words actually came out of my non-existent mouth.

“Pick me” I said again in my imaginary voice. I am ready to be of service to you and your awaiting guests. It was actually long overdue for Lidia to host a party.  The last time that she held me in her delicate hands was the night that she hosted Book club. I remember that it was last Fall and she had cooked a few dishes and a multitude of pies. There was some type of rhubarb pie and a pumpkin pie. I can recall that day fondly as Lidia’s kitchen was fragrant with scents of cinnamon and freshly melted butter.

Amongst the many appetizers and desserts, she had made an exquisite bacon, cheddar and spinach quiche. She served up slice upon slice of the decadent dish with me as her favorite side-kick! 

With her “Pampered Chef” mini spatula gripped tightly in her hand, we actually made a great team. I was working overtime that night and I couldn’t have felt more special or important.  Lidia was even tickled to hear guests question where they could also get one of those “cute little spatulas!”  I don’t ever recall being called cute! I mean, I am already about ten years old, give or take. I’ve made appearances at just about all of Lidia’s parties so I’m sort of a celebrity in these parts.  In the world of kitchen gadgets that come and go like a new product launch at QVC, that is a big deal! I would prefer to be called divine or exquisite!

When I think back on that memory, did Lidia really have another choice but to pick me today? When you consider her other choices – the semi-tarnished butter spreader or the slotted olive spoon who would you choose? I was made for this job – cutting and slicing. My petite size allowed me flexibility to serve even the most delicate of dishes.

Choose me!

The grandfather clock in the back hallway struck noon. In almost the same instant, the oven timer went off. Surely it was getting close to showtime.

Pick me!

Then, when I had almost given up hope, the sound of soft footsteps came suddenly closer. I looked straight into Lidia’s eyes as she perused her selections. Hmmm. Would she decide to go with that “other” spatula with those jagged edges. Such a bore, I thought. For my own selfish reasons, I needed to be chosen. Truthfully, I was getting up there in age and I’m not sure how many more dinner parties, or teas I would be included in before I’m actually retired.  I know that even I with all of my history, experience and service, I too had a shelf life. No longer would I be able to shine like I once did in my prime.

Then, suddenly and without much more hesitation, I felt myself being lifted. I felt the familiarity of Lidia’s soft hands as she gently placed me alongside the tapestry patterned napkin. The vintage milk vase which held her freshly cut flowers anchored the rest of her table decor. Tonight, I would be center stage. Well almost. I would graciously accept my place alongside the coffee cake this time and just be grateful.

I am grateful to be chosen.  I am grateful that I still have some life left in me and that I am even given an opportunity to serve - literally. It’s not every day that an ordinary household item like myself could still have usefulness to have survived for as long as I have. I, however, am certainly not ordinary. My legacy will live on and be passed down for generations to come!

Submitted to Reedsy:  March 1, 2024