I know this is mockable. My own mother has mocked me. "Good grief!" she said. "Do you really need all of these?" Ouch. How can someone who loves me so much, know me so little?
Yes, I really need all of them. This isn't even all of them. There is another four-cupper, which did not make it to the photo shoot. It was in the dishwasher, because I needed it to make breakfast.
I think I might get my love of Pyrex from my Grandma Bunny. She had elaborate towers built of the stuff. In the kitchen, in the garage, in the second oven. (*sigh* a second oven.) She had a piece for everything, and lost lids were mourned.
Quite a few of my pieces used to be hers. That beautiful eight-cupper among them. I didn't even know they made them that big. Now, it is my most prized. Mix the pancakes, pour the pancakes, all in one. Genius! When Grandma died, I asked if I could have it. I had to flip my aunt for it, but I think she only wanted it for canning, not out of any true affection for the Pyrex. I lost the toss for the casserole dish with lid and insulated bag. I still remember. Surely, this is true love.
Also not in the picture is the bastard step-child of my measuring cups. An Anchor Hocking two-cupper, which is sort of like Cinderella before the ball. I don't really love it, but I keep it around for it's utility. I would feel bad about this, if measuring cups had feelings, which they don't.
If they did, mine would love me back.
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