Totally 'Point'less

Let us, for a moment, consider the spoon. The spoon is, I believe, the unsung hero of the silverware drawer. With the prestige awarded to the knife and the versatility of the fork, it is easy to imagine the spoon feeling a little inferior. I am here to correct this misconception.


I mean which other utensil has become a verb? Well, knife can technically be considered a verb...but only in slang...and usually in Quentin Tarentino movies. And it doesn't approach the romanticism of a newlywed couple who decide to "spoon" on a quiet, sunny, Saturday afternoon. It is actually quite a noble and distinguished instrument.


I can't help but think that the other utensils tease the spoons in the silverware drawer late at night.

"You didn't even have a speaking part in Beauty and The Beast."

"There are two types of ME on the table."

"I was used in a horror movie."

"I was the one in that cannon scene in Pirates of the Caribbean."


All of these may be true, the spoons were the synchronized swimmers in the dinner scene, there has never been a slasher who chose a teaspoon as his weapon of choice, and no one will ever forget the wooden eyeball scene on the pirate ship, but nothing compares to the spoon.


It is still the spoon for me. The spoon, from the Latin 'soupus slurpitupicus', is quite possibly my favorite. I mean which other tool can be at home on the most formal place setting on the dining room table, in the kitchen next to the everyday bowls, and with someone who is curled up on the couch with a midnight snack (not that I know anything about those personally). And which other utensil is as specialized as the spoon? I can choose between a fork and a spoon when eating a noodle casserole and do just fine. But if I have cereal, or soup, or even ice cream (yum) there is only one choice. The spoon! All others are mere imitators, imposters, and totally unreliable.


So keep this in mind next time there is a 60 Minutes special extolling the benefits of being a knife, the spoon is a fine choice when trying to get food into your mouth. I think I have made my point...with a completely blunt utensil.


***Now before you start calling Sylvia and asking if she needs help taking me to the hospital, let me explain that I have not been painting with the windows closed, I have not started mixing medications, and I did not drink that partial can of expired apple juice we found behind the water heater...(even though Jacob triple dog dared me).

Following Kristiana's 8th grade graduation ceremony she complained about the one assignment she disliked the most. She was supposed to write a 500 word essay about "the spoon" for Writing. In the spirit of "I won't ever ask you to do something I wouldn't do myself" I used when I was a manager, I told Kristiana that I would dedicate my next entry to the spoon noble implement that it is. And I, if nothing else, am a man of my word. If anyone cares to count to see if I actually made it to 500 words, you have even more free time than I do! (kidding...579)


Now if you'll excuse me...there is a valley girl at the door who is mentioning something about being gagged with something or other.