I left the plate.

It was white stoneware with a chip on the rim, and it had a dried egg yolk on it that would take a chisel to get off.

I had washed every other dish in that kitchen before I packed.

I left that one exactly where it was.

At the curb, I loaded my personal bags into the passenger seat of my Honda.

The back seat held the box of towels, the picture, and the pineapple magnet.