Instruments of the Kitchen

I am no stranger to the dishes. I have long since been the family member who donned the enormous yellow gloves, wielding the purging sponge to make dishes clean enough to eat off of. I have long contemplated the meaning and symbolism of these various items as I spent hours of my curious and imaginative youth in the kitchen with the pots and pans. And after careful thought there is one particular piece in my parents kitchen that defines me better than any of the others.

It was a small brown glass pot with a handle. This was my favorite piece of glassware in the world while living at home with my parents. It was just large enough to make enough food to appease my appetites. I would fill this pot with a pair of ramen noodles packets and macaroni and cheese just for me.

I used to use this pot almost every day. I would come home from school and the first thing I would do was throw on a pot of water to boil so I could eat my pasta dish before I had to go to work as a lifeguard, which was the job I did all through high school and into the first year of college. Ramen was about the only thing I would eat during those days. I'm not really so sure why I enjoyed those simple noodles so much in those days, but for some reason I loved them back then. They got me through the day.

It was also nice to be able to make food only for one. I have always been a loner my whole life. The only change that has ever come about to this has been when I got married, but before that I was almost always perfectly content with just sitting alone to read, write or play a video game by my lonesome. This is why the single serving nature of this pot is so perfect for me. It was as content as being alone as I was. It was sufficient on its own to make meals and I was content to eat that small portion alone.