10 Signs My Kitchen is Small
CutieLittleBoy is firmly situated in the middle of the Why Phase. I am pretty well convinced that he asks the question so frequently that he doesn't always hear it himself. It is his verbal pause of choice. And then every once in awhile he throws me for a loop by expecting me to answer and repeating the question again and again until I come up with a suitable answer.
And for some reason, the size of our house has come up in his endless questions. "Why do we have a big house? Why is our kitchen small? Why do we have lots of things? Why do we have a small house? Why do we have lots of things in our kitchen?" In between scrambling for answers, I wonder what prompts the adjectives. What is he seeing that makes it big or small, full or empty?
I don't know why it surprises me, though. From day to day I find myself asking similar questions. "How can we keep living in such a small place? Why did I ever think we might one day need to move to something larger?" From day to day, the adjectives differ.
So I've created this handy list of ten signs my kitchen might be too small. Read it quickly, because if you blink, I will have made it a list of ten signs my kitchen is just the right size.
1) Costco-sized kitchen mats can't fit. It doesn't matter whether I lay the mat parallel to my kitchen counter or perpendicular. They won't fit. Oh, and those additional sizes available online? All larger.
2) A key feature of a kitchen trash can: a flat lid... all that additional work space!
3) Having a clean sink and a clean stove top ranks as an awe-inspiring encounter with the miracle-working God. With no dishwasher, it is a rare minute indeed where no dirty dishes huddle in my kitchen sink. And for drying? A dish rack can only hold so much. That's where the stove comes in, with all of that great extra space for drying larger items. Like a see-saw, if one is empty, the other is full. The last time my kitchen experienced double-emptiness, I'm nearly positive I saw the glow of heaven in my white stove-top enamel.
4) Putting away dishes involves a precise process. And it is not because of any wannabe OCD. It is a simple matter of physics. I can't open the cupboard to put away the kids' cups if I haven't yet put away the knives. I can't reach the plates if I haven't put away the cups. Etc.
5) The desk is seen as an extension of my kitchen space. Nothing revolutionary here, right? Doesn't everyone put a toaster oven on their desk?
6) A new pan ruins my drawer layout. I made the mistake of buying a new roasting pan. It's a little bit bigger than the one rust is eating it's way through, and that little size difference is fatal. When we remodeled the kitchen to maximize counter and storage space, S.O.S. measured our kitchen supplies and built the cabinets to match. Brilliant, except now I realize I need a new kitchen before I can get any new pots and pans.
7) Opening the fridge all the way involves pulling it into the center of the kitchen, so it perfectly blocks the doorway. This is hardly ever an issue, unless we're putting away pizza boxes, casseroles, large salads... or want to clean up the goop in the bottom of the vegetable drawer.
8) It is impractical to use a mop. Even a full-size broom, come to think of it. Up until about 4 months ago, the only broom I had was one of those waist-high mini-brooms. I finally splurged and bought a "grown-up" broom with the hopes that I could convince the kids that it was mine. No success to report on that front. The story with mops would follow the same plot line. I keep trying to make mopping the floor on hands and knees look similarly appealing, but again, no success to report.
9) Opening the oven requires an utter and complete stop on all other kitchen activities. Think of it in these terms: our floor space is the size of an oven door plus the standing space of an adult pair of legs. Yes, there is more room over between the fridge and the pantry, but again, open one and forget any of the others. The adults in the family understand this reality. The children, not so much.
10) In kitchen design, the kitchen work triangle is all about placing the refrigerator, sink, and stove top within a four to nine feet triangular walk area. Those step-saving kitchens? They have nothing on mine. I can have my hands in dish soap glory over the sink and turn on my stove without getting any suds on the knob. How? It's all in the lean, I tell you. Of course, I've only ever done this accidentally, but think of the possibilities!
So in summary, these are ten reasons why my kitchen has plenty of room. (But does anyone need a larger roasting pan?)
And for some reason, the size of our house has come up in his endless questions. "Why do we have a big house? Why is our kitchen small? Why do we have lots of things? Why do we have a small house? Why do we have lots of things in our kitchen?" In between scrambling for answers, I wonder what prompts the adjectives. What is he seeing that makes it big or small, full or empty?
I don't know why it surprises me, though. From day to day I find myself asking similar questions. "How can we keep living in such a small place? Why did I ever think we might one day need to move to something larger?" From day to day, the adjectives differ.
So I've created this handy list of ten signs my kitchen might be too small. Read it quickly, because if you blink, I will have made it a list of ten signs my kitchen is just the right size.
1) Costco-sized kitchen mats can't fit. It doesn't matter whether I lay the mat parallel to my kitchen counter or perpendicular. They won't fit. Oh, and those additional sizes available online? All larger.
2) A key feature of a kitchen trash can: a flat lid... all that additional work space!
3) Having a clean sink and a clean stove top ranks as an awe-inspiring encounter with the miracle-working God. With no dishwasher, it is a rare minute indeed where no dirty dishes huddle in my kitchen sink. And for drying? A dish rack can only hold so much. That's where the stove comes in, with all of that great extra space for drying larger items. Like a see-saw, if one is empty, the other is full. The last time my kitchen experienced double-emptiness, I'm nearly positive I saw the glow of heaven in my white stove-top enamel.
4) Putting away dishes involves a precise process. And it is not because of any wannabe OCD. It is a simple matter of physics. I can't open the cupboard to put away the kids' cups if I haven't yet put away the knives. I can't reach the plates if I haven't put away the cups. Etc.
5) The desk is seen as an extension of my kitchen space. Nothing revolutionary here, right? Doesn't everyone put a toaster oven on their desk?
6) A new pan ruins my drawer layout. I made the mistake of buying a new roasting pan. It's a little bit bigger than the one rust is eating it's way through, and that little size difference is fatal. When we remodeled the kitchen to maximize counter and storage space, S.O.S. measured our kitchen supplies and built the cabinets to match. Brilliant, except now I realize I need a new kitchen before I can get any new pots and pans.
7) Opening the fridge all the way involves pulling it into the center of the kitchen, so it perfectly blocks the doorway. This is hardly ever an issue, unless we're putting away pizza boxes, casseroles, large salads... or want to clean up the goop in the bottom of the vegetable drawer.
8) It is impractical to use a mop. Even a full-size broom, come to think of it. Up until about 4 months ago, the only broom I had was one of those waist-high mini-brooms. I finally splurged and bought a "grown-up" broom with the hopes that I could convince the kids that it was mine. No success to report on that front. The story with mops would follow the same plot line. I keep trying to make mopping the floor on hands and knees look similarly appealing, but again, no success to report.
9) Opening the oven requires an utter and complete stop on all other kitchen activities. Think of it in these terms: our floor space is the size of an oven door plus the standing space of an adult pair of legs. Yes, there is more room over between the fridge and the pantry, but again, open one and forget any of the others. The adults in the family understand this reality. The children, not so much.
10) In kitchen design, the kitchen work triangle is all about placing the refrigerator, sink, and stove top within a four to nine feet triangular walk area. Those step-saving kitchens? They have nothing on mine. I can have my hands in dish soap glory over the sink and turn on my stove without getting any suds on the knob. How? It's all in the lean, I tell you. Of course, I've only ever done this accidentally, but think of the possibilities!
So in summary, these are ten reasons why my kitchen has plenty of room. (But does anyone need a larger roasting pan?)
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