Broken

After hearing the crash, my holler and ascertaining no one was hurt, Andrew’s only comment was, “Make sure everyone understands I’m not responsible.”

Okay. For the record, Andrew’s not responsible.

Not exactly the exoneration he’s looking for. Allow me to clarify, Andrew didn’t break the dish pictured above. I did.

This is what’s left of a Corelle Livingware plate that fell four feet from a bureau onto a hardwood floor. You’d expect a bounce, a chip, or maybe even a clean break, but this piece of dinnerware exploded. Shards of patented, laminated glass flew a good 12 feet, working their way under the piano, into Andrew’s nearby office and across two area rugs. Three days later, I’m still vacuuming up beige splinters, and I’ve no idea where they’ve been hiding.

Now, I can’t blame the good people at Corelle for a faulty product. These plates are at least two decades old, well past their 3-year warranty. But even my great-aunt’s fine bone china wouldn’t have left this kind of mess.

I’m either very strong, or these plates have a not-so-sweet spot that, once tapped, unleashes the pent-up energy of all previous bumps and bangs. With my wimpy wrists the first option is unlikely. So, was this a fluke or has anyone else had a brush with ‘chip-resistant” shrapnel?