I’m not much of a collector (unless you count salvaged windows and doors or Roper stove parts), but I will admit to a weakness for old, embroidered tea towels. And it struck me this morning that my favorite one visually sums up that all-overish malaise with which we so often greet the new week.
You know, there you are just trying to keep the house clean enough and the next thing you know the dishwater is burbling, you’re naked except for a bit of webbing at your waist and jingle-bell booties, and you’ve sprouted feverish antennae! Pray to the heavens for mercy and there it looms: Monday—oh yeah, that explains it. They don’t make petunia basins the way they used to either. Sigh.
That Monday creature is a twist on the cutesy kitten tea towel.
As much as I enjoy kittens, I can’t muster much enthusiasm for this quaint incarnation anymore. I’m afraid my tastes have been twisted now. And I seek out the misunderstood creatures more readily these days. Let me know if you know any who are looking for homes. I’m not just open to martians, either.
Here’s another of my unique companions.