Same Old Kitchen
I have cherished memories of my parent's kitchen. Not that it was a modern, state-of-the-art kitchen. On the contrary, it was an old, badly-taken-care-of-kitchen. The kind where the drawers are hard to open and when they are closed, they all looked crooked.
I can even remember the smell of rust in the drawers as I struggled with the sifter, knives, and can opener. Back then I did not understand how much of my parents were reflected in those old utensils. They held so many memories. All those burns and imperfections made them special.
Somehow all my shiny, new utensils stopped been interesting to me, Instead I began to treasure those old, burned, never-fail utensils that hold some many stories.
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