Conversation this evening between me and my mom:
Me: Where's that fancy spoon I always use for ice cream?
Mom: We have a fancy spoon?
Me: Yeah, the one with the scallopy edges. We only have one of them.
Mom (dryly): You mean the sugar spoon?
Me: Is that what it's called?
Mom: I can't believe you're almost 40 and you don't know what a sugar spoon is.
Me: I don't remember you ever sitting me down and giving me the silverware talk when I was a little girl.
Mom: I think it's in the sink.
Me: Everything I learned about silverware, I learned on the street, man.
Mom: Here it is.
Me: It's no wonder I'm tarnished.
Mom: If I wash it for you, will you shut up for a while?
Me: I'll try.
Now I'm eating ice cream with a newly-renamed ice cream spoon, about to start another round of revisions on The Weredeer. One day I'll feel comfortable enough to send that manuscript out again.