I found this darling piece in a thrift store a couple of centuries back, and have always dragged it out for the holidays. Every year The Colonel threatens to run it through the dishwasher, but thankfully he never does. If he did, it would no doubt finally disintegrate, and that would be a real shame. It really is wonderfully campy.
(Not that The Colonel has any right to lord it over me about my tacky floral tribute. Those dancing Santas are from his side of the family.
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