I ordered two platter plates, not realizing how big they actually were.
When they arrived, they looked more like serving trays than dinner plates.
But instead of returning them or hiding them in a cabinet, I used them.
Regular food. Regular day.
We laughed because the food looked so small on the plate;
like it was trying to find it’s place.
But we still ate.
And somehow, joy filled the space the food didn’t.
It wasn’t about the perfect setting.
It was about the love shared.
Even when the proportions were off.
That’s how I remember that day.
Not by what we ate, but how we laughed while the food danced
across the too-big plates.
