These are my Granny's dishes. They were the dishes that my father and aunts and my brothers and I grew up using at Granny's house. For some reason I have always loved them. Maybe it was because they are supposed to be unbreakable (always a plus in my klutzy world), maybe it was because they were what my dad ate on as a kid. Whatever it was, I thought they were super cool.
Imagine my suprise when a few days after commenting to Granny that if she ever wanted to replace them I'd gladly take them she called to say I could have them.
While I am thrilled with the aquisition, Aaron is less than impressed.
"They are scuffed." He said.
"So?" (Me)
"They look old and used." (Him)
"They are old and used." (Moi)
At this point he gave me a look that only he is capaple of giving, that I cannot describe, but anyone who knows us knows the look. (It is a bizzare mixture of disgust-my wife is nuts-resignation-I really hate these dishes-there is probably nothing I can do about this situation. Seriously. If you know us, you have seen the look, right Faith?)
"They are vintage." I said. The look only intensified.
"Alright. Look. I really like these dishes. I don't know why, but I always wanted some just like them when I was a kid. If Granny hadn't given them to us for free, I would have eventually purchased them peice by peice on ebay. Eventually we would have owned these dishes."
After that he brightened up. The thought of the money I would have doled out vs getting them for free perked him right up and he slurped his soup without another complaint.
Men.