Baby Spoon

Ellen and I both abhor using large dinner spoons, because somewhere, at heart, we are still the babies of the family.  Not that we’ve ever binge eaten pint after pint of ice cream, or pudding (no spoon required), or cooked cornbread mix in spoons over our dorm room (illegal) candle…  Something about doing so with a diminutive spoon makes eating more enjoyable.  It certainly lasts longer when you’re eating 1/2 a teaspoon sized amount at a time.

Once, in high school, was hanging out with Wid, the adorable and funny foreign exchange student from Thailand.  This was in the wintertime.  She was cooking for us (what self-respecting Americans do NOT force a Thai girl to cook flavorful cuisine for them?!) and spotted a snow brush and car shovel sitting by the door to the garage.  She ran over to snag her props.  “Molly TOOTHBRUSH!  HAHAHA!”, she proclaimed as she mimed me brushing my gargantuan teeth.  “Molly SPOON!  HAHAHA”, as she literally shoveled into her mouth.  I thought it was kind of funny, but my friends were hysterical with laughter, and it certainly wasn’t that funny.  And to this DAY, whenever I binge on ice cream (weekly, at least), I look for the tiniest spoon.

What’s the point of this?  Fuck if I know!  Eat with smaller utensils?  You’ll get full faster, you’ll feel like a dainty and adorable little Thai woman.

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