May your teapots be tarnished....

By anne
September 24, 2006 - 21:37.

A fastidious friend visited my rather ramshackle abode the other day. I made him tea. When I poured the boiling water from my tiny aluminum kettle, he said, “Omigosh! What happened to your teapot?”

Holding the kettle aloft so that my friend could see its blackened bottom, I explained. “I let my son take it camping. It’s all bronzy from sitting over wood fires.”

“Why?” my friend queried.

“Why what?” I asked, confused.

“Why would you let him take your stuff to go camping? He wrecked it.”

“This kettle was ten dollars at Target,” I said. “And anyway, I like it this way. Every time I heat it up, I smell the forest. I’m a camper, too, y’know.”

My friend just smiled, shook his head, and sipped his tea, clearly thinking that I’m much too lax in the parenting-and-property department. I was smiling, too. When I die, I want my teapots to be tarnished. I want books to be open on the tables. I want surviving siblings to find leftovers from Morton’s in the fridge. And I want them to pop the cork on wines I paid too much for in Australia.

Life is short, is what I’m saying. Let your children take your teapot to the forest. Let there be evidence that you—and they—have lived!

Sidebar Links

Upcoming events

  • No upcoming events available

Recent comments