How Could Heirloom Warming Trays Disappear Right Under Our Noses
No one believed I had not stolen or hidden them
It was my turn, along with my boyfriend, Tony, to host our family and friends at my home for Christmas. Being I have always had an affinity for cooking and baking, I planned quite a feast, down to every last piece of silverware, mulled cider, and decorations.
The dinner
Creating fancy foods and desserts were hobbies of mine, but staying focused and finding space in my small kitchen would pose a challenge, especially since Tony’s family insisted on bringing a few of their favorite dishes.
To be sure food stayed warm and ready to eat simultaneously, I planned to keep my oven at 175 degrees and also utilize the microwave for other last-minute foods.
Since there were not enough outlets for warming trays or crock pots in my compact kitchen, I asked everyone who was bringing food to ensure it was in microwave-safe dishes or oven-ready pans.
Tony’s family, which consisted of his mom, two aunts and uncles, missed the boat by bringing food in molded plastic disposable serving dishes and four vintage-style warming trays to keep them warm.
I had already arranged the center island and countertops like a buffet, with just enough space for the additional items I knew they would be bringing.
No room for plug-ins
Upon their arrival, I reminded them there were no extra outlets and their food needed to be transferred to other dishes. They didn’t seem to have a problem with it, apologized for not remembering, and helped me prep their contributions for warming.
They must have set the plug-in trays by the door so as not to forget them on their way out, but I hadn’t taken much notice due to the extra work I was tasked with — in hindsight, I should have asked them to tuck the trays safely back in the trunk of their car.
Shortly after the food came out of the oven and microwave, dinner was ready to eat, and the trays were the farthest from anyone’s mind.
After dinner, coffee, and dessert, everyone brought stacks of gifts into the living room to be distributed. I was surprised to see that every person in Tony’s family brought at least seven gifts for every other person in his family.
Then it was expected to watch each one unwrap their gifts, one person at a time, along with a conversation about each present, which took a painstaking couple of hours for them to glorify all the gifts.
It wasn’t long before the living room looked as if a tornado had struck, and once my dog became tangled in wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows, I asked Tony to find a couple of black plastic garbage bags so we could clean up the mess that was now covering the floor.
Unexpected snow
Sometime during the gift-opening ceremony, it started snowing heavily, and his family decided to leave before it became too difficult to drive.
They quickly packed their gifts and leftovers then made their getaway, not remembering to grab the warming trays on their way out, which went unnoticed by both Tony and myself.
Others who lived nearby also left, while others stayed overnight, feeling it was too late and dark to drive in the snow.
The next morning was a beautiful, snow-covered, picture-perfect day reminding me of a Norman Rockwell postcard.
After breakfast my guests packed their belongings, cleaned snow off their cars before saying their goodbyes, then off they went, leaving me and my boyfriend to finish cleaning from the night before.
It was an absolute mess, especially the kitchen, which was my area to clean — his was making several trips to the garbage cans with the bags of debris and leftover food he had packed the night before and left lined up by the door waiting for disposal.
After cleaning snow off the cars and stoop, he left for his apartment, and neither of us thought to check if his family had taken their trays.
Where are my trays?
A few days later, Tony’s mom called me, requesting that I give her son the trays to bring back to her house. I asked where she had left them and felt a shiver run through me when she said they were next to the door in a black plastic bag.
A black plastic garbage bag? Tony had already removed all the garbage bags that were by the door, and there were none left in the hallway. Maybe they were still outside in the garbage cans with the trash from the other day?!
Then a sinking feeling engulfed me as I remembered garbage pickup had taken place on Tuesday, and this was already Wednesday.
At that point, I could only hope Tony’s family didn’t remember leaving with them and they may still be in their car trunk, or Tony himself had set the bag aside somewhere in my house for safekeeping.
Unfortunately, hope was dashed when he confirmed he had indeed taken all the garbage bags out to the cans. It was disheartening to realize the warming trays were most likely already on their way to the landfill.
Who’s to blame?
I felt bad for not letting them use the trays, but there wasn’t room unless I disassembled the entire buffet, unplugged the coffee pot, and ran extension cords from the living room.
Or — was it Tony’s fault for not checking what he was throwing away — or his family forgetting them for four days — or storing them in garbage bags in the first place?
Though I understood their significance — they were vintage and had been in his family for a long time, they were gone and dwelling on it or placing blame would not bring them back.
The joke was that his family thought I hid them in my house somewhere and chose not to return them. His mom had gone so far as to ask her son to search for them when I was not around.
Even funnier was that I owned two similar ones which I never used, and offered them to his mom, but she refused them insisting I return the four I must be holding for some unknown reason.
His family never shared the blame for them disappearing right out from under our noses, and I would be willing to bet that after all these years, they are still referring to me as “the ex-girlfriend who stole the family heirlooms!”
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