We took a family trip between Christmas and the start of the new semester, in part because the schedules aligned as they had not for four years and all us were free that week. It was wonderful to have such a stretch of relaxed time with my spouse and kids.
On the very early in the morning drive back to the airport, Crash and The Egg were playing 20 questions. At one point Crash asked if something were "bigger than a breadbox" and I wondered aloud if he even knew what a breadbox was (and how big it was). Actually, no clue.
I remember my grandmother's metal breadbox on the counter with the corrugated steel door that slid up into the top — a tiny garage for the bread. There was a touch of rust on the corners, and if you were to ask me what color it was, I might say it was a pale blue.
And you can still buy them - there is even one for more than $100 at MOMA! I'm fairly sure my grandmothers would be appalled by that last.
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