Glass

Love that youngest child's hat!

What fun it was to have a visit from some of the grandchilluns last night.  Sadly, one of them had already left by the time I thought to snap a picture.  They are all growing up so fast!

The Husband decided to bake some cake-mix cookies with them.  They all pitched in to help not only with the preparation, but also with the consumption.  The Husband got out all the equipment, including this bowl.

I had to mentally laugh at myself.  Every time he gets out a glass bowl to mix something in I have an imaginary argument with myself.

You see, I grew up in a family that was very poor.  In all aspects of the word.  We barely had enough to get by on.  Too little income for too many people.  Everything we had was cheap.  And the cheaper the better.  No china, no high end furniture or cars.  Just cheap everything.

We've had this bowl - unbroken - for over 20 years.

In the kitchen we used melmac and plastic.  We had a few cheap aluminum things for baking.  But: no glass.  Glass was fragile.  Glass broke.  Which required replacing.  Which cost money.  Which we didn't have.  So...no glass.

Now, there's nothing wrong with The Husband using this glass bowl for mixing.  But just the thought of those electric mixer beaters hitting the glass gives me the shudders.  I always picture it shattering.  Horrors!

And the thing that gives me pause?  That this relic emotion/response from my childhood still prompts that kind of reaction from me after all these years.  It's a puzzlement to me that it does.