Mom sailed into the room and went straight to my closet.
“Why are you hiding wine in your closet?!”
“I’m not hiding it. I buy bottles in case I need wine for parties.”
She groped a purple dress on its hanger. “What’s this?!?”
“A shirt. Why are you poking around in my closet?”
She turned to me. “I had a dream that you were hiding our checkbook in your closet. We order checkbook. They haven’t come in the mail yet.”
“Are you hiding them in your closet?”
“Yes,” I said. “Why would I hide your checkbooks in my closet?”
“It was in my dream,” she replied.
“If you die, I get your Vitamix,” Piper said.
“I get your All-Clad skillets,” Akela replied.
“Doesn’t anyone want any of my stuff?” I asked.
“I’ll take your trash cans,” Piper said after a while.
I own a bunch of attractive Japanese trash cans made from ayous wood. One of them cost me $70.
“What about my laptop?”
“I’d prefer your trash cans.”
“Uh . . . I’ll . . . " She couldn’t think of anything.
For Christmas, I gave Mom several presents, including a set of artisan felted wool coasters. The set consisted of two mustard yellow coasters and two royal blue coasters, with an artsy silkscreened design on the top of each coaster.
After a few months, I noticed that Mom consistently used the blue coasters on the correct side and the yellow coasters turned over to wrong side.
"You don’t like the yellow coasters?" I asked her one day.
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