Crockpot Insecurities

Sam is attending a cub scout party this evening. The invite asked for families to "bring a dish or snack" to share. What to make? Tiny pigs in a blanket--of course!

"This will be perfect", I reasoned. "I'll just bake them and pop them into the crockpot to keep warm." Then I looked at my crockpot-- I mean really looked at it. I noticed the long brown, splotchy drip on one side that refused to scrub off and lots of brownish flecks. As I scraped my thumbnail on the brown spots and then attempted to remove them with the magic eraser, I realized that was where the painted enamel surface had chipped off. One of the small plastic legs had broken off and been reglued on. Did I mention it was a wedding gift from 14 years ago? If I ever finish with it, it won't be nice enough to donate to someone in need. The poor won't want it-- only a lower middle class family like ours would be crazy enough to keep using it.

If this was a gathering with my friends, I would throw those pigs into that crockpot and not give it a second thought. But this isn't a gathering of people I am familiar with. And the host has a really nice house-- probably one without a reject crockpot in sight.

Long story short? Part of me wants the snack to go into a sparkling white Corningware dish with foil and send it on with my husband to scouts with Sam. The Corningware could let me "hide": I could appear to use only dishes that look brand new, instead of weary from 14 years of my learning how to cook. I could avoid new people, evade having to figure out whether or not the group is one I can begin to fit into, whether or not they use the "R" word or have exotic food allergies. It's easy to be me with my friends, even with some aquaintances. But it's scary to just let it all hang out there when it's someone I don't know well who looks like they have it all together.

But I am not using Corningware tonight. I am sending my crockpot. The pigs in a blanket look perfect and my choice to forgo vanity may save them from eating pork kept at too low of a temperature-- thus saving them from food poisioning.

I am good enough. And doggone it-- so is my crockpot.