Of all the ridiculous things to be sentimental about . . . I get all slushy and mawkish about my potholders. Yes, potholders. I’ve had (and used!) the same potholders for over two decades.
I received them as a wedding gift (or maybe they were a shower gift?) in 1992. I haven’t the foggiest recollection who gave them to me. But one might say I’m devoted* to them.
Now that you think I’ve got a screw loose (screws fall out all the time, the world’s an imperfect place), let me introduce you to my potholders:
You don’t have to tell me they’re ugly. I know they’re ugly — ugly and awesome! They’re mauve and wedgewood blue — it’s like setting the DeLorean for 1992 every time I take a casserole out of the oven. And they’re still perfectly serviceable. But my daughter says they’re embarrassing. She’s begging me to get rid…
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