I never would have thought cutlery could turn me into a full-fledged puddle on my kitchen floor, but tonight it did. Don’t worry, no one stabbed me, although I don’t doubt someone in this house has envisioned that once or twice.
This puddle was not blood or even a river of sad 2020 tears. This was a puddle filled with tears of overwhelming gratitude that was brought on by two simple butter knives.
I was unloading the dishwasher and I pulled out a butter knife I didn’t recognize. I wondered where it came from, but thought nothing of it due to my slovenly housekeeping ways until moments later when I found a second one.
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