The Chipped Cup

One of the first times I ever brought souvenirs home from a trip was not long after Dennis and I were married. I can’t remember exactly which science education conference it was that I went to, or what city it was in, except that it was north of Tallahassee—but then, isn’t everything? Anyhow, I got coffee in the hotel coffee shop at breakfast, and it was served in a heavy, footed cup that had stenciled on its side
“As you ramble on through life, Brother,
Whatever be your goal,
Keep your eye upon the doughnut
And not upon the hole .
I loved it—the saying and the cup. They were selling them at the cash register, and on impulse I bought two—one for me and one for Dennis.
Dennis thought the cute was “cute” but he continued to use his giant stained lucky coffee cup just the same as always. I, on the other hand, used my souvenir cup daily. Then the inevitable happened—my precious cup got a chip on the rim. What to do now? The pristine cup in the cupboard was Dennis’, not mine. I had given it to him myself. So, excruciatingly fair person that I was, I continued to use my chipped cup for the duration of our short-lived marriage.
But then, when we divorced, somehow the chipped cup got thrown out and the pristine cup stayed with me. All’s fair in love and divorce, I guess. But I’ve never drunk coffee out of that pristine cup. It still sits high up in my cupboard. It doesn’t seem fair to use it.