Boy would say it’s a problem of my incessant jar collecting. Something along the lines of “Al, we don’t live in the country. I know you want to live in the country, but we don’t.” Have I mentioned my recent inner unrest over wanting to live in the country? A refurbished farm-house. A loft bedroom. A long driveway. A wrap-around porch. And jars. Jam for thumb print cookies. Fig preserves for fig pies. Homemade apple butter from my crock pot. Sun tea with fresh mint sprigs. They all require extra jars.
However, after assessing the situation, I would say we have a problem of mugs, bowls, and ramekins that threaten to cascade out of the kitchen cabinet. Because you can never have too many ramekins.