Addictions...

Every once in a while... when I'm feeling like I should disclose more than I really should... I let a secret out about myself. Sometimes, they aren't so much secrets as absurd facts that matter to no one but myself. For example...

I love eating fat free candy. Seriously. Little orange wedges? LOVE! Spice drops? Yum! Red Vines? Oh color me happy! Circus Peanuts! DIVINE (I know... gross right?) I eat them late at night, when I'm doing things instead of sleeping (you know you do it too). Of course I am never without my trusty Sonic Diet Coke . a-hem.

Another ditty... up until very recently, I had an amazing collection of thin plastic bowls. You know, the kind that you can buy at your local Target or Hell-mart at 4 for a buck? I had puh-lenty of them. And even a few for spares.

Until I came home after Steve had a day off.

He decided I had a problem with bowls.

And threw them all out.

Them all.

Seriously.

It wasn't until they weren't there that I realized I used them for everything.

Everything.

Yes, I really do mean everything.

Sorting beads? Check.
Sorting other crafty diddies? Check.
Seperating taco toppings? Check.
Sorting Jelly Beans? Check.
Feeding Fred? Check, Check, and double Check.
Eating cereal, soup, salad and anything else I can eat out of it? Check x 4,000.

So now I find myself minus my bowl stash. I have 2 or 3 of them left. I treasure them but am sure they'll find themselves off to a barren wasteland without me to use them and help them feel appreciated. That is, if Steve-o gets hold of them.

Yes, I know they're cheap. Definitely not classy or upscale (neither am I - so we're cool). The best part though?

They.don't.chip.
They.don't.break. (melt, yes. shatter or break? no)

We have tile floors throughout the main floor of our home.

Every one of my glass (acquired pre-marraige) dishes are chipped.

Every.
One.

So, what do I do now?

Steve-o does not want plastic. I can't handle having my dishes chipped.

I love the lightweightness of plastic.

Any reccomendations?
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