Sherlock had his pipe. Dorothy had her ruby red slippers. Me? Well, friends, particularly former and current housemates, would most likely associate me with this:
Yep, it is a Bugs Bunny mug.
When I arrived in Australia I decided I needed a vessel dedicated purely to tea drinking. It was a small luxury I could now afford given I would be staying in one place for awhile. And to this day I savor my tea from this mug each morning. (That’s correct, I am a bit different from the many Americans who clamor for their cup of automatic-drip coffee at daybreak.)
I can’t say it was an extremely thoughtful purchase (impulse buy); I can’t say the mug is expensive or deluxe ($5 from Coles); I can’t even say they bothered to properly fill in the cartoon character’s features (orange bunny nose). Nonetheless, I have carried Bugs Bunny with me move after move after move. And I leave him all over the house, typically still half full with afternoon tea I could not finish due to some distraction, much to the dismay of others.
I am very possessive of Bugs as the mug has developed sentimental value — it has been a constant in an ever-changing landscape. When housemates borrow Bugs this instantly inspires jealously. Why do they need my mug?! Surely, there are plenty of others around! In fact, sheer panic has arisen on a few occasions after hearing dishes breaking in another room. For some unknown reason I tend to fear it might be Bugs taking a fatal dive!
Yet, the mug lives on and each morning my tea ritual occurs. Undoubtedly, there will be room in my suitcase when the time comes to explore a new country.