The Good Dishes

I'm not saying that other people's way is wrong here, it's just not for me. I loath plastic dishes. Plastic storage containers, love 'em, but not dishes. And that includes the utensils and glasses. It's not a health issue or an environmental issue or any other high minded ideal. I just don't like the look and feel of them. I'd rather drink out of a re-purposed glass jar than a plastic cup. I'll pick the itty bitty glass wine glass over the mongo plastic wine "glass."

This plan to use glass and ceramic ware was simply a matter of taste for quite a few years. There were no consequences one way or the other. Then I had children. At my baby shower I received plastic dishes and plastic sippy cups and plastic utensils. I used them for awhile. You know how it is when you're first starting out in parenting, all the little baby gadgets are kind of fun, and those no-spill sippy cups are genius. When kid number two came along however, I was over a lot of things. Plastic dishes were one of them. (Although the genius sippy cups got a pass.) I started setting the table with the same dishes for everyone.

I didn't have the sort of dishes a person would be attached to or proud of. I believe my mom collected them a few at a time in a grocery store deal when I was still in middle school. It's a good thing too, because it wasn't long before those babies were old enough to start helping out with the dinner clean up and I watched my supply of dishes quickly become depleted. Not that the kids were the first ones to break dishes; my husband and I are pretty clutzy ourselves. Eventually I didn't even have enough plates or glasses to set the table for a couple of guests.

For my 34th birthday, after 10 years of marriage, I asked for and received a new set of plates and bowls. This was a good time to rethink my aversion to plastic. My children were five, three, and unborn at the time. I could keep the new, very awesome, dishes only for adults, or only for guests. I really liked these new dishes. I liked that I had gotten to pick them out myself. I liked that they were bold colors and had a handmade look. I liked that they came in six different colors and made the table look cheery in any season.

That love was the downfall of the dishes. And when I say downfall, think, slipping from small fingers, crashing into sinks, falling to the floor, being knocked off of tables. I could have gone back to plastic and kept the dishes safe so that I could enjoy them far into the future. I didn't. And I'm not sorry.

I went the route of enjoying the dishes now. I set my table with those cheery dishes each night and smiled at the sight of them. When they got broke, I did feel sad, but I moved on pretty fast. Eventually I took advantage of their mix match appearance and started filling in the set with odds and ends I picked up at Goodwill, or on clearance here and there. I decided spending big money on dishes was a stress I didn't want in my life. I wanted a colorful table set with real dishes. I wanted dishes that said dinner was important and the time together was to be valued.

I get a finite number of dinners with my family, and nobody is telling what that number is, so I want dinner time to matter. If I saved the good dishes back so that I would be able to enjoy them long into the future, who would I enjoy them with?