Dear Ellie Scott,
As one of your few surviving forks, it falls to me to relate to you the fate of your cutlery. Please understand, it’s not entirely your fault. It’s a long tale, full of twists and not without some irony: you see, your ill-fated attempts at hosting both repeated family Christmas gatherings and non-family ‘friends-givings’ lie at the heart of the mystery.
As well, your 2013 willingness to host Thanksgiving for the entire family, seems particularly ill-advised. The twins, Reginald and Nigel, who were both eleven at the time, though they seemed rather too eager to ‘help out’ merely binned the entirety of plates, cutlery, leftovers and sundry during the course of their attempts at ‘cleaning’. It was your cousin Pamela, rather fond of Nigel as she is (but who displays a distinct animus to Reginald), who retrieved your plates from the trash. However, since she has a debilitating phobia of cranberry sauce, she could not finish the task and the bulk of your cutlery at that time was lost to a landfill. I alone survived to tell the tale.
And… well… though it pains me to tell you, your aunt Petunia is quite something of a kleptomaniac. Why do you think she carries an umbrella in any and all weather? It is where she stashes her loot. Though she holds a rather dim view of your ‘pedestrian silverware’ (her words, not mine) she did use your Guy Fawkes day gathering of 2015 as a dry run on her Aunt Muriels heirloom collection, the bulk of which now sits next to me, disused and abandoned. I regret to say that there are a number of ‘sporks’ in here as well, which makes Saturday mixers somewhat… Awkward… Shall we say…
I’m not complaining. It’s a somewhat monastic existence, sitting unused in a drawer, contemplating the Tao of Cutlery. I am given to understand, however, that the entire contents of your aunts estate is to be willed to her ‘favorite niece.’ If that’s you then it won’t be long — judging by the number of cats she now feeds — before we are re-united.
Best,
Jimmy ‘Two-Tine’ Longhandle, Utensil-at-large