Where oh Where Have my Little Spoons Gone?

I came into marriage with a respectable amount of dishes, linens, and small appliances. Of all the housewares that graced my new kitchen, one of my favorites was my set of everyday silverware. The pieces were light and delicate with a tiny bow at the end of each one. I would admire them every time I set the table, and each time, the charming little bows delighted me anew. With no dishwasher at the time, I washed each spoon and fork fastidiously, carefully drying them on my pristine red and white checked dishtowels. I then lovingly returned each utensil to its compartment in my kitchen drawer.

A couple years and four kids later, and my once cherished set of flatware has slowly dwindled from a service for twelve to a service for seven (minus a couple of small forks). Particularly perplexing is the mysterious disappearance of all but ONE teaspoon. I noticed that they had gradually begun to vanish, but taking a recent inventory of my kitchen drawer, I was dismayed to discover that we were now down to one lone little spoon.

Determined to restore my flatware to its former glory, one rainy Sunday I rallied my husband and children to embark on the hunt for the missing spoons and forks. I even bribed my kids with the promise of a financial reward, should any utensils be found. Spoons were worth a dollar, and forks would earn the fortunate finder a dollar fifty.

Together we tore apart the house hoping to unearth the missing pieces. We discovered countless game pieces, hundreds of tiny beads from a broken dollar store necklace, and sole socks whose mates I had long discarded. Shouts of excitement resonated through the house as my children were reunited with many of their forgotten treasures. Although our puzzles now had their missing pieces, and the formerly defunct game of marble race could once again be played, not a single spoon or fork turned up.

Resignedly, I bade farewell to my silverware and made the decision to replace the set. In the house cleaning frenzy that we had started that day, I zealously attacked my mammoth extra freezer in the basement. With frigid fingers, I pulled out meat and chicken, ice cream and frozen pizza, and some unidentifiable blocks of frozen matter.

As I heaved out a frozen turkey, something fell to the floor with a resounding metal clink. A half eaten plastic container of Luigi’s Italian Ices lay there complete with a stainless steel spoon decorated with a pretty bow on the end! Sticking my head deep into the glacial shelf, I discovered three more identical cups, all with frosty spoons frozen into their centers! Joyfully, I washed and dried them, on my now faded dishtowels, and returned them to their rightful home in the kitchen drawer.

Now that we have four teaspoons, all my kids can eat ice cream at the same time without having to resort to the flimsy plastic spoons that break more often than not. I have decided not to replace the set, as I am still holding out in the hope of discovering more pieces in the most unlikely places. I have come to terms with the likelihood that most of my teaspoons have ended up in the garbage along with the yogurt cups with which they were eaten. The forks, however, still remain an unsolved mystery to me, one which I intend to figure out.

And so I persevere, wielding my dust rag and broom, ever hopeful that I will come across something of value. My previously mundane existence has become infused with excitement, as housecleaning takes on an adventurous twist, with the possibility of unearthing a long lost treasure. Sweeping obscure corners and dusting behind heavy furniture are now an exhilarating task, as I eagerly anticipate the missing objects I may find each day. Just the other day, my efforts paid off as I celebrated the discovery of a fork wedged between the radiator and the kitchen wall.

I’d better get back to my hallowed mission. Who knows what valuables are waiting for me underneath the oven?

Have you seen me?