Duct-Tape Ninjas & Drunken Squirrels: My Kind of Fauna
Yes, ‘tis better to give than receive.
But it’s nice to receive.
Valentine’s Day was so last week, but I’m still kind of basking in the glow. Oh, those little perforated greeting cards in their whispery white envelopes. Oh, the chalky conversation hearts.
Valentine’s Day is one of those holidays we might see folks’ love languages in action. My parents, for example, operate these days in beverages and vitamins (they’re getting a bit preachy about their probiotics, too).
For V Day, they sent me a Hamilton Beach Single-Serve Blender. Had I asked for one? No. Was the cost of postage greater than or equal to the cost of the item? Possibly.
Until recently, my parents were using my grandmother’s old blender, a vintage model that sparked and smoked. But last Christmas, I used their fancy new Single-Serve blender.
When I make smoothies at home, my parents take notes. Ice, fruit, yogurt, juice. That’s it, I tell them. You can add in fancy I’m-better-than-you stuff like wheat germ or flax seeds, but it’s not required. You can even omit the yogurt. Ice, fruit, juice. That’s it.
My parents, both college grads who combine book smarts with people smarts (and hillbilly ninja skills) look at me as though I have unlocked one of the secrets of the universe. Will you write down that recipe for me? Mom asks.
My Hamilton Beach Single-Serve blender boasts a “Travel Lid [that] Lets / You Drink / From The Jar.” Clearly this blender was made for globetrotters like me (even if most of my travel these days involves the eight miles to campus each day).
My brother also speaks beverages. Last week I found a good kind of surprise in my mailbox: a unicorn flask, just like the one pictured at the top of this post. He ordered it from Jen Woffinden at jduct.com, an etsy seller in Portland (photos in this post are hers). Her shop is full of colorful flasks and wallets. Ninjas? Yes. Atari? Uh-huh. Mustaches? Alright.
When I scroll through her online wares, one eye is on nostalgia. The other, irony. Her shop make me a little cross-eyed, in the best way.