How was your weekend? I spent last weekend building teapots.
OK, not just building teapots. I also built teacups. And also saucers. Let's not forget the saucers.
By "build" I don't mean going through the laborious and painstaking process of molding clay into shapes, baking it, painting, etc. Mostly because I have no idea how that works and I'm just guessing that's what I would have needed to do. I mean, I saw a glass blower at Silver Dollar City once ... probably the same thing-ish?
No, I built teapots and teacups and also the saucers out of pre-cut paper patterns so they could be used as decorations for a birthday party.
There's a lot to unpack here.
First, these teapots were made out of paper, so as a practical matter they were even less useful than a chocolate teapot. I heard that in a British detective show once and I've been dying to use it ever since. And, ironically, here we are.
So, to reiterate, these are purely decorative teapots, teacups and saucers meant to establish a "Tea For Two" theme. Because it's a birthday party for a 2-year-old, specifically one of my grandchildren. What, you think I'd just do this randomly for anyone?
The thing is, I did this complete in the knowledge that she would in no way appreciate it at the time. She's 2. She's likely a genius. I'm convinced that, at some point in the future, she'll serve as president of the United States and CEO of a major corporation while discovering a cure for cancer. Concurrently. But, currently, she's 2. Therefore it's likely she won't put the two and two of the party theme together.
I mean, we could probably wrap her birthday presents in front of her, and if she was in the least little bit distracted, she wouldn't realize they were hers until we put them in her lap. But she would be convinced every other object in the room, from the TV remote to a blender, is hers. I mean, she's 2. Possession is nine-tenths of keeping a 2-year-old quiet.
All of this is for her to enjoy ... in about 10 years when she looks at pictures. Talk about delayed gratification.
Also, I built these teapots, teacups and saucers because the Lovely Mrs. Smith came up with the plan, and left the specific execution to me, based on the idea that I have some talent for this. I have no idea where she got that idea.
It seems she found the teapots, teacups and saucers on Pinterest and the instructions on YouTube. In case you're not familiar with either of these, Pinterest is where your spouse goes to get an idea and YouTube is where you go to find out you can't do it.
But, in the spirit of the moment and the knowledge that it might make my granddaughter happy (or at least distract her from hiding the electric fireplace control), I started constructing teapots, teacups and saucers.
Problem is, this involved using a hot glue gun. Now if you're not familiar with a hot glue gun, it's a fascinating device designed to dispense molten lava that keeps people from climbing the walls of your castle. It also attaches paper stuff together. As well as your fingers.
And, well, did I mention "hot glue." So, while you're attaching paper to paper, paper to your fingers and your fingers to your fingers, you're also giving yourself third-degree burns. And since you're likely in the company of other family members, some of both tender years and ears, you're not exactly free to express yourself openly when all this happens.
I internalized a lot this weekend. Sailors and truck drivers would have been impressed with what I was saying to myself.
So, to recap, I spent the weekend injuring myself doing something I wasn't good at that likely will take years for the intended target to appreciate. All so the Lovely Mrs. Smith could put it all together in a presentation that does look pretty good. And also likely won't be appreciated by the intended target for years.
Why? So they -- all of the grandkids -- will know that their grandparents would certainly make big, huge sweeping gestures that likely will never be necessary. But they'll also do little stuff. Wear silly costumes. Bake endless cookies. Hot glue their fingers together.
All the big stuff. And all the little stuff. Like teapots and teacups. And also the saucers.