Update: We can call off the search for my pot scraper. Sadly, I have to report its demise.
In a last attempt to locate it this morning, I was searching through the neighboring kitchen drawers. I was hoping the scraper had just gone visiting some of the other gadgets and overstayed its welcome. After explaining to my husband what I was doing then describing what I was looking for, I got the following response. “Uh oh” Not good, I tell you, not good at all.
Seems he came across the very object of my search just the other day while looking for something else. As he had no clue what it was, and in his infinite wisdom of knowing absolutely every-freaking-thing, he decided since ‘he’ didn’t know what it was then ‘we’ didn’t need it. So he tossed it in the trash. I came this close to throwing my shoe at him, but I was wearing my frog shoes and they just don’t have a mean bone in their body. I should have bought the ones with the hippos on them. They’d have done some damage.
I told him 1) if the damn thing was in my kitchen drawer then it’s something I use, and 2) since he’s not glued to my ass 24 hours a day, how the hell did he know what I did or didn’t use on a regular basis. He took offense at ‘2’ for some reason. Go figure…
Tutti gli uomini sono idiots e sono sposato al loro Re…