Can I join in? After all, I’m “only” a legal secretary (retired at that), not a lawyer.

Decades ago a new Chief Justice took his seat on the Supreme Court of Kentucky. In a magazine article he reminisced about his career that had led him to this position, including the years when he was a judge granting divorces.

One day a couple and their lawyers appeared before him. The couple were divorcing and they had agreed on all the things that had to be settled — alimony, child custody, child support, property distribution — with one exception. Which was, they hadn’t been able to decide who was going to keep their waffle iron.

The judge assumed that the waffle iron held some sentimental value for both spouses. But it wasn’t explained to him, and anyway, he was angry that the court’s time was being taken up with such a trivial matter. He told the parties that he was going to call a 15-minute recess. If after that time they still hadn’t agreed on who’d keep the waffle iron, he would order a sale of all the marital property on the courthouse steps, waffle iron included. With the proceeds split 50–50, they could both buy as many waffle irons as they wanted.

True to his word, he called the recess. When everyone reconvened 15 minutes later, he was informed that the spouses had decided who would take the waffle iron. Having read the article this far, I was deeply disappointed that it didn’t say who ended up with the appliance, and could only think of three possible explanations. One, the reporter had forgotten to ask (unlikely). Two, the judge had forgotten (almost as unlikely). Or three, he didn’t ask because he didn’t care. He was only concerned about two signatures on the settlement agreement so he could sign the order granting the divorce.

Drat.