The Flower Spoon

I don’t know where it came from; nor do I know where it’s gone. But, for a few years the flower spoon reigned supreme at our house. Every cereal breakfast started not with a prayer of thanks but with a child shouting, “I get the flower spoon.” Which, of course, was followed with a “No, You got it yesterday.” Every macaroni and cheese lunch: same story. Every soup dinner: well, you get the picture. I never figured out why the flower spoon was so much better than our pretty, matching silverware. But maybe it was it’s uniqueness that gave it it’s value. Hmmmm . . . . maybe there a life lesson there. . . .but whatever it was, it was a serious source of contention in our home for several years. It’s long since disappeared, but it’s memory – like it’s rose- is forever engraved in our family history. I somehow feel it’s found a place in another home where at this very minute a child is shouting, “I get the flower spoon!”