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  • Writer's pictureK.C. Runkel

It's Just a Crockpot


“It’s just a crockpot,” my husband said as I stood glassy-eyed at the kitchen sink.


Staring down at the dented appliance, I knew this was it. After three house moves, countless Super Bowl parties, and one too many floorboard tumbles on my way to a church potluck, my tiny little crockpot had officially cooked its last meal.


There was no reviving it this time.


While my husband’s words sounded cold, I knew his heart was coming from a kind place.


After all, I do this a lot. You know, form sentimental attachments to seemingly unimportant objects…


And this normally wouldn’t be a big deal. Except, it had to be THIS crockpot.


The first one I ever owned.


The one a fresh-faced college sophomore used to “cook” for herself for the very first time.


The first appliance in my first apartment my first time away from home.


A gift given to a granddaughter from the grandmother she spent countless hours in the kitchen with.


Because every woman needs to know how to cook…and how to let a crockpot do the cooking for you.


She knew that many of my life’s greatest moments would be lived around a portable bowl filled with warm food.


Through college get-togethers, bridal parties, baby showers and more, that little crockpot accompanied me through more than a decade-full of wonderful memories.


And after my grandmother passed away, each warm dish tasted a little more rich. Like a cozy hug from heaven, I’d spend an extra moment reliving cherished memories each time I lifted that steaming lid.


So, yes, maybe I did get a little too emotional over an outdated kitchen appliance. But the sentiment felt justified.


And, in the end, I was the one to lay it in its final resting place—the good ol’ trash can.


Because it is just a crockpot…

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