The blue bowl is broken.
My husband's great grandmother's house is still full of her stuff. She has been gone for years. The house is on a farm in the country; no one lives there. When Chad and I were engaged we visited. His grandpa said we could have anything. We got six wooden chairs that might have been made by the great grandpa. We also got multiple kitchen items. A few fireking jadite plates, several colorful mugs, and a simple wooden rocking chair. My favorite items we got were a set of four mixing bowls. The largest is yellow, then green, red, and finally blue. The little blue bowl was my favorite one. I used it all the time.
Last night Chad and I got home from a weekend trip. It was 10:00. We were tired. I had to make snacks for a bible study we have tonight. I hurridly threw together a peach crisp as well as a yummy bean dip. ("Bean dip" sounds nasty, but this dish is awesome. It has sour cream, salsa, and tons of cheese in it. Someday I'll post my fav recipes.) I attempted to clean the kitchen as the dishes were baking. I moved fast, back and forth, back and forth, loading the dishwasher, wiping counter tops, throwing food back into the fridge. I rinsed the blue bowl and attempted to set it into the dishwasher. It flew from my soapy hands in slow motion. I let out a gasp as it smashed against the tile floor. I said, "ohhhhh no!" Chad was nearby at the kitchen table balancing the checkbook. He came over and hugged me as my covered my face with my hands.
In the midst of this "crisis" I knew it was just a bowl. I was still upset. It was special to me. It was over 100 years old. It survived generations of use. I dropped it because I was in a hurry. After sweeping up the pieces and throwing them away, I recuperated. I felt lucky for Chad's kindness. He understood my breakdown and comforted me in the midst of it. I will shop around at local flea markets for a replica of the broken bowl in order to keep the set whole.