We had a dinner party the other night. I did the cooking as usual and our guests could see me in full flow as our dining table is located at the end of the kitchen. And the wine was flowing – as usual.
I have my own small glass to drink from when I’m cooking or reading the paper or watching the football. I’ve become quite attached to it. Every time I use it I wash it up and place it in the same place in the cupboard so I know exactly where it is. It’s almost automatic – I can reach it with out looking.
When we sit down to dinner with friends the posh glasses come out – you know, the ones you only half fill and tulip shaped. When everyone is gone they’re carefully washed and put back. All the other stuff is put in the dishwasher.
Including my favourite wine glass.
Which is why I couldn’t find it for a while tonight. I wanted a glass of wine but I wanted it in my favourite glass. Nothing else would do. But I couldn’t find it and couldn’t remember where I’d last seen it. After what seemed like half an hour of searching I came to the conclusion that it must have been knocked over and smashed and swept up and put out with the rubbish. My favourite glass. Gone.
Then I remembered the dishwasher. I took a look inside and there it was at the back! Relieved, I reached in and took hold of it it.
And guess what? As I pulled it out, it broke.
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