Well, I’m not actually a teapot, nor am I particularly short and stout. I just felt like saying that. At one time or another in our lives, we all want to be something we’re not. Rich, thin, adored, admired, happy, content, full of generosity and goodwill, admired… Ah, yes, the list goes on and on. Most of us, however, don’t want to be known as untalented, normal, run of the mill, dull.

So why would I want to be a teapot?

You have not just wandered into Alice in Wonderland. You’ve wandered into my mind. Which is scarier, by far. But in this business, you have to have a strange mind. Otherwise, nobody takes you seriously. I take myself very seriously. But then again, I really like myself.

Ah, there I go again. Getting wacky.

I have spent many hours looking for my handle, searching for my spout. I’ve yet to find them. Still, I truly believe that I am a little teapot. I’m filled with warm liquids that I occasionally like to pour on people. I’m breakable. I like hats. See, it all fits!

The madness is descending. I hope spring comes soon. Otherwise I might have to resort to…

Where was I? Oh, yes. I was saying goodbye. Stop by sometime and we’ll have tea. But bring some cookies!