E and I were stocking up for our Thanksgiving feast. New dishes, serving bowls, wine glasses, table decor, and the turkey and trimmings were on our shopping list. The other day, we went to Crate & Barrel and bought three oversized, beautiful porcelain white serving bowls to serve the stuffing and vegetables. I thought we’d keep them brand spanking new until Thursday, for, as my mom would say, “when company comes over.” E had other plans.

One of the horrible habits I’ve picked up from my mother is saving “new stuff” for a special occasion. My mom used the same blue and white paisley printed plates from the 70s every time I came home, instead of using the brand new matching white set I bought for her for Christmas a few years ago. “I use them for when company comes over, or for the holidays and special occasions,” she said. Not only was I infuriated that I spent good money on that gift for her and she doesn’t use it, but I felt it was a silly sacrifice of daily enjoyment to not use the new dishes. Why not use the pretty plates now, so you have something nice to serve your dinner on, instead of using the old, chipped ones? Kind of makes each meal–no matter how delicious–well, just food.

I do the same thing with my “new stuff”–I’ll buy a new shirt, but I won’t wear it until I have a really special dinner or event to attend, instead of just getting my maximum cost-per-wear out of the item immediately. I even keep the plastic on brand new electronics until the last minute, so to keep the item as “fresh” as possible.

But E couldn’t wait to get his hands on the new bowls. As I was leaving for work, I saw him poaching an egg in one of them for breakfast. I thought it was cute at first, figuring he’d only break in one of them. But when I came home at midnight that night, I noticed that all three bowls were in the dishwasher, soiled from use.

“Honey, did you HAVE to use the new bowls before company came over?” I said, channeling my mother. “Really? Like there were no other bowls in the house?”

“Save them for what?” E replied. “They’re paid for! I’m using them. No one can tell the difference between a bowl that’s straight from the store or straight from our dishwasher.”

I sighed. That flash of my mother’s brand new white dishes sitting in the cupboard came across my mind. This whole notion of saving things for a special occasion is silly. Life is short! Use the new dishes!

“Besides,” E declared. “I am a special occasion.” With that, I made breakfast.

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