This dishtowel’s more for show than for use – at least, that’s how my mom, the recipient of this dishtowel – will see it. Perhaps I should call it a tea towel. She can use it the one time per year when she serves tea to her neighbors, the Episcopalian priest and his wife.
Actually, the ritual is quite cute. My dad and Father T only pretend to drink the tea – when the ladies aren’t looking, my dad fills his and Father T’s cup with whiskey.