Spoon Wars

When I was a kid, we had two sets of silverware: a pewter set which was considered the “nice” silverware, and another set which was primarily reserved for eating cereal.

I’ll never forget the day my parents procured the casual “cereal-eating” flatware.  It was a Sunday morning at the Santa Cruz flea market down at the Drive-in.  “Oooh, look at all this great mis-matched cutlery.”  And thus we ended up with a drawer of random flatware.

These days, this would be considered trendy and eco-friendly.  However, to pre-teen me, I really couldn’t think of anything more nauseating than eating off of something associated with the words flea and market.  My brother developed a propensity for the one and only real silver spoon to make it into the flea market purchase.  He liked it because it was heavy.  I’ve never ever eaten with that spoon as its natural tarnish appeared to be just another suspicious sign of its origins.  I immediately reverted to only eating cereal with our hand-me-down long-handled iced tea spoons from my grandmother’s house.

Somehow I inherited said favorite iced-tea spoons and they are now a staple when it comes to eating cereal in my own grown-up house.  And of course, the boys have found the one and only spoon that doesn’t match any of the others and is thus the most coveted spoon in the drawer.  It’s a Japanese, stainless steel spoon with a bit of a 1960’s motif on the handle.  At our house, it’s known as the “tall” spoon.  Apparently Nate has compared it to all other spoons and it came out the tallest.

Every morning there is a veritable rush to the breakfast table to try and get the tall spoon first.  Lord help us if it is still dirty from the day before, or hidden in the steamy depths of the dishwasher.  We’ve had to institute a daily taking-of-turns with this special spoon as the Spoon Wars have resulted in countless tears and threats of removal from the Super Hero team.

This week James talked Nate into a giant sterling silver serving spoon.  Initially Nate was intrigued, as he thought it was made of golden treasure.  But after a few bites, he recognized that it just isn’t practical.

How will we put an end to the Spoon Wars?  A truce?  A treaty?  An unfortunate accident with the garbage disposal?  What other choice do we have but to… dare I say… start scouring the flea market?