It's amazing how much junk we accumulate in the kitchen. One morning last week, I took out every plate, every glass, every everything I own in the kitchen as a prelude to preparing for the holidays. This may be the first and only time since moving in that I actually did some real spring cleaning - the kind that involved a stepladder and the bravery to go where I hadn't been in, lo, these many years.

It felt really great after the fact - especially knowing that I might not do this again for another 18 years. By then I'll be too old and it'll be the kids' problem. But after taking on this voyage to the bottom of the kitchen, all I can say is, "Wow, what a mess."

Some of the stuff was high up in cabinets, seeing the light of day for the first time in years. It's amazing how much kitchen grime clings to glassware. And as I went through everything, I did one of these numbers: Why did I ever think I'd need this? Take the orange plastic bowls. Under what circumstances would I ever have the kind of emergency where I'd think, "Get me those orange plastic bowls, stat!"?

I also decided that I had really bad taste when I selected some of my "wedding" stuff years ago. (Who chooses a sugar bowl with weird little feet?). I clearly had no clue what I really needed when I was just setting up my home, proving once again that the time to have a wedding shower is 25 years into the marriage.

The other thing that struck me was the number of kitchen odds and ends I'd inherited. I assume they once meant something to somebody, but it's a little tough to know what he was thinking when he held on to five odd-lot plates or 12 water glasses with four matching wine glasses. Did the wine glasses break? Were they bought at some kind of as-is sale? No clue.

The good news is, now that I know what I have, I don't have to root around in drawers or cabinets anymore. I found four cheap vases (ready for any flower emergency) and drawers full of gadgets. I never met a vegetable I couldn't peel with one of my four peelers. And pizza cutters - well, no home should be without at least six. There's nothing harder than throwing out something that's in good condition, even if you don't particularly like it or might not ever use it. (I'm currently seeking a home for wayward pizza cutters.)

After I'd taken everything out on the counter, I had to leave briefly. I was thinking I'd take one of my children on a nostalgia tour when I came home, along the lines of "I bought this when I lived in New York" or "This is the bowl I used for your first baby food."

Excited by the prospect of putting all the pieces together for them, I called my teenager when he came home from school, ready to show off the kitchen museum.

"Did you see all the stuff I took out?" I asked.

"What stuff?"

There were dishes and glasses literally on every surface, but there was still clear access to the refrigerator. I'm guessing that's why he didn't notice. And someday when his wife asks, "What happened to the wine glasses that went with that set?" - well, let's just say I'd love to hear his explanation.