The Mysterious Bowl

My husband washes dishes for all the bereavement meals at our church. He loves doing that. Now lest you think he washes dishes at home, au contraire! (Is that how you spell that? And does it mean what I think it means? Like, no not ever?) Our church has a big commercial dishwasher thing and since he used to be a Superintendent of Schools and could often be found washing dishes in the cafeteria (in his shirt and tie) when they were short handed or running behind, it's right up his alley. He has experience! Besides that, he gets to eat all that good food that the church ladies send. I'll let you decide what his ulterior motive might be.

Last week he brought home this great big corning ware dish that had a piece of masking tape on the side with our last name written on it. And said, "Is this your bowl, cause if it is you've left it at the church for like a year and they're tired of it hanging around." Or something like that. I couldn't remember taking anything in my dish so he looked and sure enough...I still have mine. And I loooove mine. But now there's it's twin, which I could surely use, sitting there on the counter staring at me saying....You love me, you have my twin, you could use me a lot. Get thee behind me Satan!

That bowl is going back to the church today. Just because somebody with my same last name left it there like a year ago and apparently doesn't love it like I do or she would have gone to get it is no excuse. That bowl needs to quit whining.