basket case

I had a boyfriend when I was 15 who liked me enough to be very afraid of my dad.

When he would come over to pick me up he would wait in the kitchen, his back against a wall. Of baskets.

My mom collected hand woven baskets from our two year experience living in Mexico City. She placed each one on that big wall with a tiny finishing nail, thinking it quite interesting and decorative.

My dad would fire questions at him like bullets. He would get all nervous and overwhelmed and knock all the baskets off the wall one by one.

My brothers and dad loved this.

In fact, replacing the baskets back on the wall may have been the only kitchen help they were ever involved in.