The Life and Death of Pink Popcorn Bowl

i know I have been absent for a while. I swore I would post 5 days a week, and here I go, abandoning you. But i swear, I have a good reason. I have been in mourning.

Yes my friends, my beloved Pink Popcorn Bowl has died. It was tragic, though not sudden. Popcorn Bowl served me well, lo these many years. Though she is dead, she is not forgotten (because she is still in my cupboard - I can't bear to throw her away yet).

Pink Popcorn Bowl came into my life approximately 15 years ago, when I was a wee lass. My mother bought her somewhere, for some reason or another. I instantly started popping popcorn in her. See, I love popcorn, and as long as I can remember, it has been my favorite snack (air popped of course - NEVER from the microwave).

I used to share a big metal bowl with my parents. But then I discovered that popcorn was extra-delicious with freshly grated cheddar cheese, so I was instantly put onto my own bowl. I found Pink Popcorn Bowl in the cupboard, still shiny and new (like a virgin... touched for the very first time). It was big and deep and held a full load of popcorn beautifully. From that day on, Pink Popcorn Bowl belonged to me and me alone. No one else used it, and nothing else was ever put in it.

The day I left for college, my mother tried to get me to leave Pink Popcorn Bowl. "Not my pink bowl!" she cried. "I love that bowl!"

"But mom, you have never used her... she doesn't know a life outside of being my popcorn bowl." My mother realized this was true, and sent us off to college together. Pink Popcorn Bowl and I spent almost every night together, often cradled in my arm as I studied. And when I graduated and moved back home, Pink Popcorn Bowl came with me, and with her came the respect of being MY bowl.

When I moved out again, and in with the man who is now my husband, Pink Popcorn Bowl again came with me. My husband, being far saner than I, did not understand the love Pink Popcorn Bowl and I had for one another. But he did not question it. He accepted it and never touched the bowl. He didn't quite understand why no one else was allowed to eat from her, but after a few arguments, he left it alone.

One day, husband decided to be kind and do the dishes. He inadvertently warped Pink Popcorn Bowl ever so slightly. I was upset, but told him it was fine. He didn't believe me, and insisted he fix her. His tugging and smooshing resulted in a crack on her lip! I cried out, but there was nothing that could be done. Pink Popcorn Bowl was now 100% off limits to husband. I comforted her that night with a bowl of extra cheesy, extra tasty popcorn.

But that crack grew into a chip. It's ok, I told myself. The chip was still limited to the outer lip of Bowl. Scars add character I thought. But deep down, I knew the end was nigh. But then a few weeks later I noticed, very subtly, that the crack had expanded, just a bit, and was creeping down into the bowl itself. I was in denial. I did not want to believe that my friend was dying.

It was Wednesday, 12th of April. I was about to wash Pink Popcorn Bowl so that we may enjoy another bowl of popcorn together when she slipped from my hands and fell to the linoleum. Though it was only two or three feet, it was too much for her to take. That hairline fracture, that little nothing of a crack split down her side, nearly to the bottom. It was all over. Pink Popcorn Bowl was dead. After 15 years, she was gone - a split second that had been building for months.

I washed her oh so gently, and we enjoyed one final bowl of popcorn - extra cheesy, extra tasty, just like she would have wanted. I cannot bring myself to throw her away, not yet, not until I find her replacement.

No other bowl will be able to replace her completely. Little Blue Bowl (Target, $1.99) is making a valiant attempt. He isn't too bad - good material, lightweight, nice shape - but he is just too small. He will do in the interim. I fear that I will never be able to find a bowl as perfect as Pink Popcorn Bowl.

R.I.P. Pink Popcorn Bowl 1991-2006