Husbands do the darndest things, don't they?
When my about-to-be husband and I were registering for wedding gifts five years ago, I remember combing through the online catalogues of Williams-Sonoma and Sur La Table for all manner of cooking gadgets I might finally be able to possess in my kitchen.
Good pots and pans. Professional knives. Flatware that actually matched. Gleamingly new baking pans to replace my ancient, beat-up ones. Ahh, it was like the joy of Christmas, only better.
Since we were living in a modest apartment at the time, I tried not to go too crazy because we simply didn't have the storage space then. But I also tried to heed my friends' advice to pack my registry with a lot of items to give folks an array of choices when it came to gift-giving.
And then I saw it. It caught my eye and called out to me because I'd never had one or even used one before. It was a pasta machine. Not just any pasta machine, but an attachment to my KitchenAid mixer that would allow me, the carb lover that I am, to make my very own strands of fettuccine.
As I stared at it on my computer screen, I yelled out to my husband, who was in the next room, "Honey, should I put this pasta attachment for the mixer on our registry?''
Him: "A pasta attachment? Are you kidding? We'll never use it. You know we won't. It's just a waste of space.''
Sigh. OK, maybe he wasn't a killjoy. Maybe he was right. Maybe we'd never really use it. Maybe.
So I clicked on to another page of culinary doodads, leaving the pasta attachment behind.
Fast forward to Christmas last year.
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