How Kitchen Things Get Broken

Ooh! I know a parable:

There was once a salt cellar who, for aesthetic and curious reasons (kicks?), fancied dressing as a pepper-half. The ink for painting extra holes was made with soy sauce for colour, a mite of Marmite, and a little flour to make a good paste. It was done with great tenderness.
Along came a human, fresh from the final argument with a woman. He snatched up the salt cellar and waggled it fluently over his salmon and sauce. Disgusting white rocks for pepper.
“Christ almighty, woman, why is there salt in this pepper cellar? And with my cholesterol? It’s blue bloody murder” he spat. And lobbed the salt cellar at the woman and missed and hit the glassy vase of cut daffodils on the side. The vase exploded, and, when the salt cellar hit the floor, it exploded too, in a storm of daffodils.