This is not a napkin

Maybe you’ve seen the surrealist painting of a pipe that says “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” (“This is not a pipe”).

Seems like a contradiction, but actually, an image of a pipe is not a pipe. It’s an image, of a pipe.

Many things in this world are not napkins, but to my children, apparently, they are. And the napkin itself, folded cotton upon the tabletop, unused, unsullied – icon of a napkin – is not.

Thus, I was inspired, back in April 2007, to write the following. One kid and a year and a half later, and it is, sadly, more true than ever.

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The cool green vest that Evelyn gave you is not a napkin.

The shirt underneath your vest is not a napkin.

The front, the sides, the back, the inside of your shirt are not napkins.

My shirt is not a napkin.

Your pants are not a napkin.

The table, the chair, the floor, the wall are not napkins.

The window is not a napkin.

I am not a napkin.

Your hair is not a napkin.

You are not a napkin.

My hair is not a napkin.

The yoga pants that I wear almost every day might as well be a napkin.

The clothes you pull off the clothesline are not napkins.

Your carseat is not a napkin.

The carpet is not a napkin.

Nor the couch.

Alas... a napkin is not a napkin.

And it is not a pipe, either.