Generally, Steph and I are very negative and snobbish about kitch. It’s not that we hate the people who buy it. We just don’t get into it. We’re not excited about garden gnomes or dogs playing poker.
But there’s one notable exception to this rule, and that’s the Dachshund Collection at the Danbury Mint. Somehow, at some point, we were added to their mailing list for Dachshund memorabilia, and they send us an ad with a large glossy photo of their latest craptacular masterpiece every single month. We would never actually buy any of this. I’m hoping no one misunderstands this entry as an invitation to send us small pieces of dachshund-shaped porcelain that we need to regularly dust. That’s not where I’m going here.
Having said that, whenever I see that envelope with the Danbury Mint return address, I get a little excited. Today I clapped my hands. I really wanted to see what they’d come up with next, and I wasn’t disappointed when my eyes gazed upon The Dachshund Calendar. Peep that sucker. Pardon the crudity of the stitched-together scan, but the biggest one on the web was only 400 pixels tall, and that just won’t do when you’ve got an 11″ x 13″ glossy in front of you and you know the splendor people are missing.
Steph’s favorite is September, whereas I’m a sucker for February. I think it’s the wings.
Why do I get the feeling that this experience could teach me something about being a parent?