Spatula- a true story
I've come to regard the spatula as the symbol of unrequited
love
Years ago I gave one away- engraved, as a joke, but secretly
with my heart on my sleeve.
What better way to say I love you?
It upset me when I learned the recipient used the spatula to
cook with- scorched it on the stove- melted the handle in the dishwasher- and I
felt the liberating sting of rejection.
Sometime later a young man, tall and gangly- adorable in the
way a new foal is- gave me a spatula of my own.
Beautiful olive-wood- smooth and swirled grained- and I felt
my heart break when I realized what it meant.
Now more than a decade later I still use it- and every time
I do I think of how careless I was with his heart, and I take special care to
oil the wood and hand wash only- penitence for what could not have been.
