My beloved one.

[same_sky]

I have an object in my household that I love more than I should. My favorite Christmas present this year was a sodium chloride containment unit--a salt cellar, if you will. I started cooking with kosher salt in preparation of owning this piece of art much more than because all the cooking shows harp on it. I longed to possess it. I was tremendously excited when I opened it at Christmas. Although I wasn't sure I'd be receiving it, I had hoped that it would be there, under the tree. If it hadn't been, though, I would have bought it as soon as the holiday was over. I simply really wanted to have this salt cellar. (Good Eats fans, of course I'm talking about the one Alton Brown has.)



I'm still very happy that I have it, I use it every time I cook, and it looks quite nice sitting by the stove. But I thought I had moved past the obsession with my sodium chloride containment unit. Last night, while M was cooking himself a lunch sandwich and doing dishes, I was sweeping the floor and cleaning the counters and putting things away. I noticed after a while, though, that I had been standing in one place for ten minutes, cleaning and polishing the stainless steel with a dishrag. And furthermore, once I had it gleaming like a dentist's tool set, I snarled at my poor totte when he accidentally touched it, leaving a fingerprint.

Is it normal to consider a sodium chloride containment unit part of the family?

Comments

[same-sky.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure if this should reassure you, but I was somehow certain that you'd understand. :)

I think M will be a little more careful about touching it in future. *giggle*