Letting Go

Dear Plate,

I (vaguely) remember drawing on you back in preschool, making you into a special gift for Father's Day. Do you remember, too?

Of course you don't, you're a plate. Not that that's a bad thing -there's lots of stuff plates can do besides remember. You know, like hold stuff on them. Flat.

Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for holding up for so many (26) years and even though you've mainly sat on the bottom of the plate pile, you've always been special.

It's time to say goodbye. It's not you, it's me. Really. You've held that portrait I drew of Dad so well and you've kept quite a few meals from having to be eaten on the table. And even though you aren't microwavable, you've been pretty darn useful.

Take care, plate. And thanks.

Affectionately,

Kelly