by Olive Rosehips
On my desk I have a working antique gumball machine from Ford for 1-cent gumballs with a little key to open the bottom to retrieve coins. At my glamorous dressing table, I have the most beautiful plum Fenton stained glass lamp with a hand painted shade and art deco base; memories of a carefree time before children. Facing my bed is that glamorous, antique, art deco dressing table, hand carved with plenty of craftsman details and extraordinary pulls, and a large, round mirror. In my living room, amongst ball and claw legs, you'll find an imported Italian marble coffee table in an antique style, of carved mahogany and a matching side table. I’m not bragging (you may very well find these things atrocious), but rather sobbing gently as I tell you that I had all of these things before having children and those same children have dinged, chipped, cracked or stained every one of these collected delights. What I want to know is... someday, is it all right to go to their homes and destroy their things, too?
Olive Rosehips listens to jazz, knows she can't sing, drinks dirty martinis, and paints her toenails dazzling shades of red.