When I was very small, I had my very own plate, painted with an assortment of woodland creatures, including a squirrel, a rabbit, a fox, and a mouse. I don’t recall the meals I ate off it as much as I remember looking into the eyes of my sweet, furry friends.
Fortunately, these friends didn’t only live there, but in tiny apartments I imagined lining a metal rain gutter that ran parallel to our back door. We’d enjoy long conversations on the steps, where I’d knock on their imaginary doors and windows before they peeked their chubby faces out.
I still have this plate today. It’s nested in a stack we pull from for things like salads and toast. When someone else gets it, I admit to feeling a some panic that it may slip from their hands, but I’ve never once withheld the joy it is meant to give anyone who uses it.
When the lottery wheel of our small plates lands on me, though, I feel so lucky.
This post is as warm and fuzzy as the friends on your plate. ❤️
ReplyDeleteThis is how I feel about some of my mugs. “When the lottery wheel of our small plates lands on me, though, I feel so lucky.”
ReplyDeleteThat really was a great line!
DeleteThe image of young you sitting on the steps, talking with your furry friends, is so sweet! It makes me smile to read that you still have this plate and get to use it.
ReplyDelete