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So, yes, maybe I did get a little too emotional over an outdated kitchen appliance.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…