Tonight, Michael and I are going to the housewarming potluck for a friend of ours who just bought a house. For the sake of anonymity, we’ll call him Bob. Bob’s a 40-something year-old bachelor who, as far as we know, owns one tattered sweatshirt, a nylon vest from his high school days, a pair of jeans, a television, a wine rack, a computer and a cat. Bob just bought a four bedroom home to help contain the seven things that he owns.
I watched with mild interest an email conversation regarding the organization of this party. One of Bob’s friends pointed out that he doesn’t have much in terms of kitchen supplies. Among the things that she listed him not having are: “tea pot, silverware, glasses, coffee cups, pizza pans, drawer organizers and dish towels”. I kind of assume that she wasn’t listing these items in order of importance, because someone might buy him a teapot, but there would be no cups or glasses from which to drink the teapot contents. In fact, if the truth be told, I doubt Bob even has tea on hand. So, we’ll just have to drink our hot water straight from Bob’s new teapot.
Just this last week, Bob posted a photo on Facebook of the contents of his refrigerator. It had what looked like three food items in it, along with several side doors full of bottled water and beer. He called it a “start at moving away from bachelordom”. I commented that my refrigerator had more items than that in it when it was delivered in the box from the appliance store.
After initial preparation work for some of the food I’m taking to the potluck tonight, I asked Michael to accompany me to get a housewarming gift for Bob. Michael had a different store in mind than I did, but since Bob and he have been friends for decades, we went where he suggested. I had to steer Michael away from A giant, multi-colored tin dog and some ceramic bowls covered in bananas and monkey figurines. I also vetoed the rather creepy looking nutcracker holiday decorations Michael pointed out. While I didn’t really care that much what Bob might think of those lovely gift items, I was concerned that some of his friends whom we will be meeting for the first time this evening may not share our senses of humor.
While perusing the kitchen gadgets aisle, I came upon a number of tools that made an impression on me. I’m not talking about the, “Oh gosh, that is sooooo cool! I’d love to have one of those!” kind of impression. I’m talking about the dumb-founded, why-would-anyone-ever-buy-that-thing sort of reaction.
For example, the Snapjack. If you’ve never seen one of these handy gems, you are missing out! This thing can slice an ENTIRE STACK of pancakes in no time flat. How does it do that?!? It comes complete with a little manual on how to make pancakes. How would I ever have figured that out without this invaluable little booklet? If that’s not enough to convince you that you NEED this gadget, here’s the clincher: The manufacturers throw in a nifty little plastic measuring spoon at NO extra charge! How can they afford to do that? This ultimate pancake slicing device will only take up about a square foot of your cupboard space to store. What a deal!
I had no idea that I was so technologically behind the times. I came right home and threw out all of my knives. Now I can throw pancake slicing parties every weekend!
Uh, yeah, okay. You caught me. I didn’t buy one. I guess I’m just old fashioned. I’m keeping my knives. I didn’t even get one for Bob, even though I know he doesn’t have one. Maybe for Christmas…