Something's In The Kitchen With Dinah

Dog and people medicine in the kitchen

Show me your kitchen, and I'll tell you your age.
We used to have a clean kitchen; it lasted about two weeks after the wedding. There was plenty of counter space, and everything was tidy and neat. The kitchen landscape was highlighted by a coffeemaker and a crumb-free toaster. I was June Cleaver. I even wore an apron.
When the babies started arriving, they brought their own equipment with them. The counters and cupboard were bursting with baby food, baby medicine, and baby advice books. One time, we even found a real baby in the potato drawer. (That's how we ended up with a daughter named Ida.)
Over time, our kitchen lost its way. Pancake mix and prescriptions co-mingled in the cabinets that had once been the playground of Betty Crocker. Garden tools and
old toothbrushes invaded the "utility" drawer. The counter tops disappeared under the displays of mail, medicine and mushy mangoes that we forgot to eat. Well, the truth is, we temporarily lost them behind the coffeemaker.
As we got older, the kitchen disappeared. Today, it is completely gone.  There is no real food; only dog food and medicine and tools. Yesterday I picked up some cookie sheets that were stacked high with leftover plastic grocery bags. Underneath them was the kitchen sink. It was just the way I remember it.