My mom comes home the other day with these: two huge, old urns, that now stand proudly in her master bath till we figure out what to do with them. They stand at about three feet off the ground, looking for all the world like two squat, misshaped gnomes that are completely out of place in our apartment. I think they belonged to like, my dad’s grandma or something, so we’ve now inherited two priceless gnome-like urns.
(my mom and dad walk in with the Urns)
S&S: Uhhh.. and those would be….?
Mum: Urns. (big smile) From your grandma’s house.
S&S: (exaggerated look around our 140 square meter apartment) To go where exactly?
Mum: For the rice and wheat of course (laughs)
S&S: Ohhh! For the riz and borghol!!! They’d fit perfectly in our matchbox of a kitchen….
I’m not saying I don’t like them. I mean once upon a time my great grandma probably made these herself or something, and hid her money under the rice or wheat in them, old school. They’re actually really nice. It was just so unexpected!! I think I may take the one in the front to my room… give it some greenery or twigs. Me ‘n my gnome-like urn. Chillin’.