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From the always entertaining “Comically Inane Things to Say to the Mother of Three Boys” file: “You really need to buy some new dishes.” And that would be why? So that the four careful and tender-fingered males in the palace can nick and chip them to match the few intact Pottery Barn pieces that are clinging to survival in my cupboard? I could purchase lovely new china, but it might make the dish towels that my husband used to dry the car feel shabby in comparison. Not to mention the pot holders that I noticed tonight have something like Play-Doh stuck to them (except that none of my offspring has played with that stuff in at least five years, so who knows what it is. Cement, knowing Max). Buying new dishes could begin a calamitous domino sprawl leading to enormous sums of money being expended on everything from non-plastic flatware to a kitchen table that doesn’t have Sharpie scribblings and hammer dents all over it. Before you know it, we’d have to buy a new palace just to match the new dishes that we didn’t need in the first place.
