On September 1, 2000, I convinced James to go to the Oregon State fair with me. I thought it was a great fair; he was not impressed. Apparently, they have the King of fairs in Sacramento and everything else just pales in comparison. Having grown up in small towns, to me the Oregon State fair was huge and wonderful. Of course, all it really takes for me to think a fair is good is cows, rabbits and funnel cake. To be upgraded to great, all that needs to be added is a demolition derby. Yeah, I'm easy like that.
While we were walking around, I saw a booth where they were selling plates and recognized my mom's plates. We went over to look at them so I could point them out. My mom's plates are the kind you can throw around and they don't break, which I promptly demonstrated. At this point, James and I had been together for 8 months, had just moved into our first apartment and had a mish-mash of plates, bowls, glasses etc. By the time we left the booth, we had ordered our own 69-piece set of dishes (this is how I know the date of the fair. It's on the order form). They aren't the same as Mom's. Hers are a floral print. Ours are white with a single blue-grey stripe around the rim. We got ones we wouldn't look at in 20 years and think "what the hell were we thinking when we bought these butt-ugly things?" Even as early as 8 months, we knew we each other was the "one."
When we got them, we had a couple of broken glasses and a broken wine glass, which they replaced. Early on, I broke one of the bowls. I had taken it out of the dishwasher when it was still warm and it hit the one I set it in when I put it in the cupboard a little too hard. They replaced that too-the dishes come with a lifetime guarantee. I only had to pay shipping and handling. There have not been any more incidents with the dishes in 9 years. Until last night.
Last night, I was gearing up to settle down on the couch with "Heat Wave" by Richard Castle (who I initially suspected was James Patterson and which took me 4 stores to find), the dogs, and a cup of apple cider. I had put the TV on the "80's on 8" music station. I went in to make the cider and realized the song "I Can't Hold Back" by Survivor was on. I have not heard this song in ages. I love this song. So, I cranked the volume, put a cup of water (in a measuring cup) in the microwave to heat up, put the cider mix in a coffee cup and rocked out with my spoon microphone while I waited for the water to heat up. I tried to serenade Sammy. He ran outside. Charlie was hiding somewhere. It's really sad when your singing is so bad it scares the dogs.
The song ended before the microwave was done. So, I went and turned the TV back down to a respectable level. The microwave beeped and I poured the water into the cup with the mix. I have done this hundreds of times. This is how I make cider and hot chocolate. I was stirring the cider and the cup literally exploded, with a popping sound and everything. It did not just crack; it exploded. Cider everywhere, which the dogs enjoyed. Apparently, someone did not like my singing! Or they didn't like who I was thinking about while singing...
I told my paranormal loving friend about this. She thought it was odd. I thought it was creepy and disturbing. I told another friend about it. He wanted to know if the dogs and I were hurt when it exploded. I thought it was interesting he was concerned about the dogs.
I am crossing my fingers that I will be able to call the company tomorrow and get a new cup. The set has been complete for 9 years and it will drive me nuts if I end up missing one piece. And I am still in disbelief that it just exploded. That simply should not have happened. I guess I just won't sing anymore in the kitchen.