There I was, standing in front of the mirror, getting ready for the day. Suddenly, the door flew open, nearly decapitating my big toe and narrowly missing the rest of my body. I was expecting to see Q, with a balloon in his hand and a smile on his face, ready to play before work and school. What I saw was pregnant woman with a look on her face that was a combination of “there’s hair in my mouth” and “someone just stole my burrito.”
“Are you ok?” I asked.
Her response was simple. She said nothing, walked right passed me, and promptly bent over the toilet. Naturally, I stood perfectly still. If there was a bear in the room he would have thought I was dead. Moments later, after some audible gagging, I heard the following sentence.
“I accidentally threw Q’s spoon in the garbage when I was dumping out his cereal and I tried to dig it out three times…(gag)…but the trash smells horrible and I think I’m going to throw up…(gag)…”
A smile crept over my face at that point. “How did that happen?” I asked, trying not to laugh.
“I don’t know, but it’s not sitting on the top, it went way down there,” K said. “Can you go look for it?”
So, I went out to the kitchen and tried to assess the situation.
“Mama threw my spoon away. We can’t find it,” Q informed me. His observations matched up with the story I was just told, so it was safe to say K wasn’t lying about the spoon. Much to my chagrin, I began my careful dig through the dirty diapers, Kleenex covered in milk and Rice Krispies, and food remnants. Thankfully, we’d had Swedish meatballs and homemade sausage pizza in the last two days, so there were raw meat wrappers in there too. The air wafting from the cylindrical can was something the dumpster behind Wendy’s would’ve been proud of…pungent to say the least.
“You can take pieces out and put them in this bag,” K suggested, pointing to the grocery store plastic bag on the counter. “That’s what I did.”
At this point, you might be thinking two things; “Wow, this mom got elbows deep in the garbage to find her kid’s spoon! What a hero!” and/or “This must be the greatest spoon ever!” Well, I can assure you, you’re thinking the wrong things.
First off, in the aforementioned grocery bag on the counter there were exactly two pieces of trash. Two empty shredded cheese bags. They were the last two things we had thrown away the previous night. She had taken the top two things out of the trash can, then promptly ran into the bathroom to throw up. A solid attempt to find the spoon? You tell me. Secondly, and this was after I had sifted through the garbage mind you, it was brought to my attention that we have an exact replica of the very spoon that was thrown away. That’s right. We have another one. They’re generic, blue, plastic spoons. Not the antique heirloom you’ve been imagining.
As for the spoon, sadly, it was never found. I spent the better part of five minutes sifting through trash and came up empty. Where did it go? No one knows. One can only imagine the ferocious speed it took for K to break a spoon down to its atomic state. It must have been a rough breakfast.