When my Mum used to travel, she always brought me home a souvenir teatowel. Yes, I've had some beauties in my time - Ayers Rock (that's what it was called in those days), some dolphins somewhere, lots of Australian wildflowers. I use to think it was all a bit daggy.
Mum returned from one trip with no teatowel! Where was my souvenir teatowel? She knew that I thought it was daggy (well, yes, but I still wanted one). She did actually bring me some lovely teatowels, and after she died, I found some that that she had kept, pristine, maybe to give to me one day?
These days, my girls have taken up the baton and they bring me teatowels from their wanderings around Europe, and gorgeous almost-too-lovely-to-use teatowels from the States, where they call them dishtowels. Now the Four Sisters play. We all love it.
So when my favourite sister undertook to find me an Obama dishtowel (I am, of course, in love with the man), she had something delightful up her sleeve. Look at the masterpiece she made me for my birthday. (Photograph shamelessly stolen from Hashi's blog.)
He is, isn't he?