Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The Bad Kind of Spooning

When I was young my parents had assigned each of their children (me and my three older siblings) certain chores which needed to be done on a regular basis. In all honesty unless we had company coming over in the near future, and by near future I mean within a day or so, most of the chores were neglected. However there was one thing that got done in a fairly consistent manner and that was putting away the dishes. We were each responsible for a certain section of the kitchen where things were to be put away. As the youngest and therefore the shortest at the time, I was in charge of making sure the silverware made it into the correct spots in the silverware drawer, this was by far the easiest job but for some reason I still hated it. Despite the fact that putting away the silverware was really the only chore I had to complete pretty much ever I remember being in a terrible mood every time I was asked to do it. I remember trying to hold out for as long as I could so that most of the clean silverware would be used by the time I got around to putting them away so that I wouldn't have as much work to do . . . Ya know, because those five extra forks I didn't have to put away were really making a difference.

Still, despite the ease and infrequent demands of my chores, I felt as though I needed a way to pay my vengeance on my family for making me endure such horrible hardships. I don't remember how old I was when I finally developed my plan for revenge, but I'm certain that I was old enough to know better. It occurred to me one day that one of the most aggravating things you can do to someone was lick a piece of food before they got a chance to eat it. So I thought to myself, wouldn't licking the utensils they use to eat that food be just as bad if not worse than licking the food itself? And so it was settled, anytime I was upset at my family for any reason, everyone got their silverware licked before I put it in the drawer. I'm not sure how exactly I came to this decision, but I clearly remember only licking the spoons, I really have no idea why but I bet there was something brilliant behind it.

Perhaps the best part about all of this is that I learned at some point later on that my brother is an enormous germ-a-phobe. Apparently my family punishment was harshest on him. The ironic thing is, no one ever knew that I was doing this. I would go about licking every single spoon that came through the dish washer, and no one was the wiser. It wasn't until last Thanksgiving that I told any of my family members about my old spooning routine, yet somehow I found it to be an oddly satisfying way of getting back at my family for any wrongs I felt they had perpetuated against me. I guess it is kind of like when a chef spits in a rude customer's meal and they eat the whole thing without a clue, the chef is nonetheless happy with his form of justice. I wouldn't go so far as to call my little spooning trick justice, I mean after all my family really didn't do anything to me except ask me to do an incredibly easy chore about twice a week.

Anyway, I know its a little late, but I'd like to apologize my family for subjecting them to the bad kind of spooning, but I must say, all of that spoon looking may have paid off. I mean, I don't have to put away silverware anymore . . . I'm gonna count that as a win.