I have never had a kitchen without a junk drawer. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a kitchen without one.

Such a designation is so prevalent, that some kitchen designers ask, “Which is the junk drawer?” So designated, that drawer gets a heavier bottom and slides, because there is no end to the stuff that will go in there.

I am a “place for everything, and everything in its place” kind of guy. That doesn’t mean I’m a neat freak. The thing may be in a pile, but at least I know what pile it is in. I use piles because I have too much junk. For junk that does not have a pile, but will be useful in the future, there is the junk drawer.

A quick and partial inventory reveals that our junk drawer has batteries of varying voltages. It seems that the Admiral’s high-tech camera has such high voltage demand that it only uses the top half of four AA batteries which, when the camera’s warning light demands fresh ones, are dumped in the junk drawer to be used by less demanding low-tech devices. My smaller flashlights haven’t had a fresh battery in years. I am certain they feel slighted by having to use the camera’s hand-me-downs.

Our junk drawer is also the holding place for frog and fish food, and empty containers of each. We do have frogs, but haven’t had fish in over a year. I guess we will be ready when someone’s stray goldfish wanders into our yard and we take it in.

We also have nails. In a kitchen junk drawer, you would expect to have small, picture-hanging nails, or nails to do a trim repair job, but what in the world are 8-penny and 16-penny framing nails doing in there? There are also roofing nails, and nails to drive into concrete. Is there a construction project going on that I don’t know about?

Writing utensils by the box and paper by the pad lurk in there, too. I say lurk, because when I am on the phone and need a pen and paper, there are none within three drawers of the junk drawer. Where do they go? I wonder if the nails have anything to do with their disappearance.

There is fishing line, two spools, super glue (three tubes, all dry), tape — clear, duct, and electrical; assorted tacks, pushpins galore, empty pill bottles, dog’s medicine from four years ago, screws, more nails, all of it neatly in organizers. Aren’t the terms “organizer” and “junk” mutually exclusive?

On the very bottom, never to see the light of day, are sharp things. If ever excavated, they will prove to be an undiscovered life form. We humans are to the sharp things, what whales are to giant squid. We both carry scars from our encounters, which is proof that they exist.

There are knives in the junk drawer. Why are they not in the knife drawer? I investigate only to find that there are tools in the knife drawer. Shouldn’t a hammer and screwdrivers be in the drawer with nails and screws?

The only explanation is that the sharp things have driven the tools out to protect the weaker nails and screws. Oh, the drama played out in that drawer.

When was the last time you checked your junk drawer? Be careful when you do. There are sharp things on the bottom … waiting.

David Wilson Atwood is a local writer whose human interest columns offer a unique perspective. He may be contacted, and his other works viewed, at www.starchasers.us or david@starchasers.us.