Yesterday’s post, about throwing away what’s broken, came up this morning when I noticed a coffee mug my husband uses. It’s an old mug, probably 25 years, at least. It’s a FarSide mug that our daughter or I bought for him so long ago we can’t remember who actually found it. It has a small, nervous dog making espresso on it, a FarSide comic. He loves it. So much so that it is chipped, cracked, and badly stained. I worked on the stain part this morning and got it clean. The chips and cracks? They’re still there.
“The grandkids got you a new mug, how about you throw this one away?”
“Yes, I like the new mug and I’ll use it, but no, I’m not getting rid of the FarSide mug.”
“It’s cracked and chipped.”
“Doesn’t matter. I still use it.”
“Someday, at your estate sale, people are going to wonder why the old man kept that mug. Was he decrepit?”
“No, just sentimental.”
I’ve lost this argument.