washwords

Tea pots. Tea kettles.

Useful little gadgets, right? Especially when one’s sick and sniffley.

[Photo “teapot” on Flickr by Xassa]

In the move, I could have sworn I packed (and boxed and reboxed) at least 3 of them. Yah, in the great combining households after 25, we have doubles and triples of everrrything.

And yet?

Can’t find a one. Tore up the basement and the closets, untaping all those boxes so neatly labeled “give away.” Sneezing and whispering, I would have even settled for one of the many things I angrily threw in tubs, in my “get this out of here! I do not want any of these things! Next crystal bowl or vase is getting guillotined. Don’t try me? You wanna battle candlestick???? Throw them away NOW!” phase (sometimes I channel my mother. 🙂 Hi mom! This one’s for you!)

Still none. So, I’m at the mall, remember oh yah, Macy’s, they have housewares… teapots. Trot along between the ghost-town that was formerly known as major department store, to the one aisle of housewares in the sea of jampacked juniors “fashions” largely consisting of purple beaded tops and XXL “housecoats” always popular with the juniors… and voila, a not bad, pretty cute actually “martha stewart essentials” turquoise teapot. Price? $80.

Let me say that again. Eight TEE. Doll ARS. seriously.

I blinked. Further investigation revealed … it was on sale. For $63. For a tea pot!?

Had I been living in a cave? Was I the George Bush Sr. of my generation and in the years since I registered (for all those agljagjklagjlk crystal bowls), this is now what kitchen stuff cost? I wandered on and squashed, shamed in a corner with the other rif-raff appliances (“low-end mixers, kept farrr away from their kitchenaid superiors; “regular” coffeemakers that didn’t even make cappucino (as IF!), I found another teapot. $59.

I took the box down to examine – did these teapots have magical properties? come with boyfriends? insta-flu remedies? get outta work free cards? Nope. I just couldn’t do it.

Three hours later at a store whose name may have the initials B, B, and B (and is NOT buy buy baby), we found our teapot. a “curling stone” after the canadian sport, though I prefer to call it a curling iron. It’s white and doesn’t quite whistle right and the handle gets a little hot to the touch. But hey for $25, what do you want?

It was the tea kettle steal of the century apparently.

Powered by ScribeFire.