The Brown Crock Pot

I am losing my mind – I am totally losing my mind.

Yesterday I spent 10 minutes looking for my brown crock pot. Finally, I asked my husband.

“Where is the brown crock pot?”

“The what?”

“The brown crock pot – you know, the thingy I cook chili in….”

“Ah, I am pretty sure we don’t own a brown crock pot.”

“Sure we do – I made pot roast in it last winter. You didn’t give it away to the Goodwill with all the other stuff did you? You know I use it all the time. I swear I love that thing – if you gave…..”

“I did not give it away. We don’t own a brown crock pot.”

“Then what did I make the pot roast in, hot shot? Hmmmm?”

“Come with me.”

He took me into the laundry room where we store our unused and at times unwanted appliances. (That is where you will find my bread maker, pasta maker, large Cuisinart, and rice steamer. It’s like the ‘Island of Misfit Toys’ from the cartoon Rudolf, only the misfits here are all appliances.)

Anyway, he showed me the shelves. No brown crock pot.

“What did you do with it then?” I accused.

“Nothing – we don’t OWN a brown crock pot.”

“Oh please...now are you going to tell me I’m losing my mind?”

“Here, is this what you are looking for?” He had rooted around past the vegetable steamer and salad spinner, and found it. A blue crock pot.

“Ah…” For once in my life I was speechless.

I realized, amongst my tirade, that we didn’t own a brown crock pot. That crock pot was a wedding gift from my previous marriage, and I haven’t owned since, well, my previous marriage. My husband has mentioned that I look for things like a teenage boy, and grudgingly, I guess sometimes I do. But only sometimes. Now excuse me while I search for the chicken I bought to put in the brown, er, blue crock put. I swear I put it in the freezer just last week. It has to be in there…hidden right behind my mind that I really do think I am losing.