The Cup
I guess when you see me, you see just an old worn out cup. Well I’m here to tell you I’m not just a worn old cup. No sir, I was that special cup. I was the cup that the brand new wife brought home to her beloved husband. She presented me to him with such love that I soon became his favorite cup. Back in the day not every child was born in a hospital, so when she was giving birth to their first child, well yup I was the cup he held onto that long ago night, while he waited impatiently in the kitchen for the midwife to bring him the good news of his child. Boy or Girl?, he really didn’t care as long as the child was strong and healthy. I was there every morning when they awoke and said their morning pleasantries. Of course not every morning was pleasant, they had their spiffs but I sure loved it when they said, “Good morning”, “I love you”, “Have a good day”. And I was there when he waited for his child to come home from her first date. He didn’t want her to know he was up worried and waiting for her so as soon as he caught sight of her, he scooted off to bed. But she knew he had been waiting up for her because as she walked into the kitchen she spied me as I silently sat on the dining table. I gave him away with that still warm coffee in me. The years came and went with all those memories of love, and worry and joys. I was the cup that she took out of the cupboard one last time and as she slowly brought me out she caressed me to her bosom, a tiny tear slipped and fell and hit my rim as she recalled the memory of when she with such joy presented me to her beloved husband.[!upc :none!]