Several months ago, in San Diego, I found a little orange enamel bowl all alone on the thrift store bric-a-brac shelf. I used it for cereal and soup and all the usual applications of a bowl. The little orange bowl was happy to have me as a companion, but I knew deep down he was always a little sad when it was time to go back up into the lonely cabinet. The bowl made it all the way across the country with me to New York; I couldn’t leave him behind.
Then, last weekend, while looking around at vintage-y stuff at the Brooklyn Flea I found his family! There sat a little stack of yellow, blue and green enamel bowls! Now they are all very happy together. You can imagine the excitement they shared upon being reunited.
(I think The Brave Little Toaster really affected me as a kid.)