I saw this cookie jar in Christopher’s Antiques on South Broadway in Nyack. Though I am smitten and I have gone back to visit it several times, I am determined to not buy it. I have thus far resisted the purchase for the following reasons:
- Lack-o-counter space in the kitchen: something would have to go. Would it be the microwave? The toaster? Or god-forbid, the coffee maker? No.
- Since I wouldn’t want to displace any of the above items, I’d probably start carrying it around with me all the time, i.e. to work, while running errands and while meeting up with friends. I can see myself cradling it like a newborn, or holding it up on my shoulder like a circa 1986 boom box. Nope.
- Where there is a cookie jar, there are probably cookies and I don’t need any encouragement in this area, as in: “Oh I better buy/bake some more cookies so that adorable cookie jar feels a sense of purpose.” Not good.
- Growing up, our cookie jar was shaped like a head of lettuce with a bunny perched on top. The deal was that you had to ask the bunny for a cookie. Permission was granted or denied into my mother’s ear. I am concerned that I would be compelled to continue this tradition, and this would result in my talking to and trading secrets with…a mushroom. Not good at all.
- I want to maintain some semblance of control over my fungi fetish. I have already indulged in several mushroom trinkets (lawn decor, in particular) and at the rate I’m going, I fear that I will have to rent out a storage space or an entire warehouse for them. Again, No. Absolutely not.
But this cookie jar is so cute…And it has mushrooms on it…Maybe I could attach a strap and make it into a messenger bag….or…come on, pull yourself together, girl.
Thank you for your continued support – I hope that with your help I can stick to my guns here. (But, I mean, I don’t know, do you think I should go get it?)