Popcorn Bowl

There are is a treasure in my kitchen cupboard that is a holdover from childhood. Our grandpa was notorious for giving us sometimes unusual, always generous gifts. There was the giant Valentine's heart box filled with chocolates; so big it didn't fit inside of the refrigerator where our mom usually stashed chocolate in an effort to keep it out of our chocolate-loving dog Trina's mouth. The highlight of our birthdays were long-distance phone calls from Grandpa, asking if we received our card and gift of (big!) money. Christmas meant something so over-the-top special that no other gift would compare. Grandpa always knew exactly what our hearts desired.

Occasionally there were random presents, given for no other reason than he was thinking of us and loved us.  Like our popcorn bowls. We five girls each received a pretty metal popcorn bowl in a different pastel color, and we five girls still possess our special dishes. The metallic paint is rubbed off in certain places (likely lead-based and probably not good for ingestion), but the shiny pink original color of my bowl remains detectable. It travelled with me through childhood and into my teen years, to college, overseas, and across the Twin Cities as I jumped from apartment to townhouse to home. My popcorn bowl is a reminder of where I come from and that I am loved  And it is a mighty fine vessel for snacks of all kinds.