Tales of the Spoon Resort

Dear Dairy,

I just realized that I may have lost my teaspoon forever. I made hot chocolate, and for fun: I put some coffee in it. Then I left my poor old teaspoon in the cup when I sent it off for washing. This was my tragic mistake of the day. 

Spoons go missing in that kitchen.

I’m not sure if, in the kitchen, there is a Spoon God and we offer our good spoons to it, so that it may bless us with always having things that need stirring. I suppose that's unlikely because I'm sure that if you give something to a God, said God will give you more of it. That's when I thought, maybe the spoons escape from captivity in the kitchen, during wash time.

Oh dear me, Diary! How will I ever find my spoon if it escaped? At the very least, perhaps it will escape to a better place, like a spoon resort.

I wonder what goes on at the spoon resort. Do the spoons relax in a hot-tea-tub? Perhaps, instead of mud baths, they soak in Nutella jars and when they go for massages, they must get rubbed up with hot cocoa and lie on pillows of mini marshmallows. This spoon resort must be fancy, if they have mini mashmellows – I suppose before bed they have themselves polished and then get tucked into beds of soft velvet. Do you think that the spoons spoon when then they are in their velvet cases?

I wonder if this spoon resort has special facilities, like the soup spoons might want to get involved in the Soup Spoon Synchronized Swimming Squad, you know, for the spoon Olympics. Maybe they need great big bowls of soup to practice in and the spoon resort specializes in such facilities. That must be why the soup spoons escape – but it doesn’t explain why the teaspoons go too.

Do you know, Dairy, I am quite sure that this spoon resort must have some sort of hierarchy system. Maybe the serving spoons act as the royal guard for the tablespoon rulers. Perhaps the Ladles are priests in the spoon religion sector. That’s it! The teaspoons are the peasant slaves! Maybe they escape the kitchen, believing that there is a better life out there for them, in the spoon resort, but its all an elaborate lie to make slaves of them!

This still doesn’t explain sporks. Maybe there was a special programme to genetically modify the spoons so that they could become better in combat situations, so they spliced fork DNA into spoon DNA and thus the sporks were born. They too serve the Monarch, but as a secret spoon service. This explains why you almost never see spoons mingling with sporks.

Dairy! It just occurred to me, that the world is full of plastic spoons. I wonder how the other spoons feel about the plastic variety. They probably feel awkward, I guess. Perhaps plastic spoons were once like normal spoons but they were not happy with their aesthetics so they got plastic spoon surgery done. Now the other spoons judge them for being insecure, but not to their face. Some normal spoons might worship the cheaper plastic spoons. But I am sure that the majority of the spoons look down at them for being non-biodegradable.

And what for the wooden spoons? May be they manage the resort, sort of like a government. They can withstand a lot of heat, but will break under pressure. Once their good reputation is stained, they may never win it back. Wooden spoons are good at making promises of tasty food, but they never tell you that it’s the cook that makes the food tasty. Yes, I am sure that the wooden spoons run the whole scheme. Maybe, they use the slotted spoons to champion their causes. 

Who knows what the real inner workings of the great spoon society looks like?

Life of a spoon is difficult – almost as difficult as it is to be an awkward star.

Well chat soon…

Love

A.Star