This weekend I finally cleaned my kitchen cupboard that’s been acting as a catchall. I pulled everything out, wiped down the shelves, and began sorting through all the junk.
Who knew that cupboards could hold so much?
I found several lids that were designed to accompany thermos cups that keep your beverages warm. However, all the thermos cups were declared missing in action, so the partnerless lids went into the trash. I found a coffee mug with my name on it, that was given to me by a cute boy in high school. This cup was reverently placed back into the cupboard, to remind me of skinnier and flirtier days gone by.
There were lonely tupperware lids from our early married days when we only made dinner for two. Also found were random plastic cups flashing their NFL gang signs that the men in our family keep purchasing on their testosterone filled boys-night outings. On the very top shelf were items my family hadn’t used in years, but I had kept because we got them at our wedding. Taking a deep breath, I practiced Spock’s art of Kolinahr, which severed all my emotions from these dishes and I put them in the Salvation Army pile.
Finally, in the back corner wedged between a soup bowl with a crack in it and a cereal bowl with strawberries on it I found the last sippy cup.
It had been there for almost two years. First carefully stashed in case of emergencies but as time went by and no drinking calamities occurred, the cup was forgotten. It had become a dusty relic of an era long ago when there were toddlers and babies in my house.
For a moment, I considered keeping the sippy cup as a trophy. A sort of visual reminder that (in the language of Barry Manilow) announced to the masses I had made it through the rain.
However, I don’t really need a trophy to do that. The survival of my children’s early years are etched into the lines on my face, the tired slump of my shoulders, and the white hairs on my head: visual proof for all the world to see.
So I threw that faded pink sippy cup in the trash and I moved on.
There are no sippy cups here. This is both a boast and a lament.