While staying at my parent's house this weekend, J and I noticed, upon retiring to my old bedroom for the night, that a perfectly charming ceramic piece of two young sweethearts (no doubt from the heart of the American farmlands) had been turned rather disturbing when someone had placed the head of the male figure in his hands as he coaxed his would-be lover. I had broken the piece several months ago when coming home late from some night out in D.C. In an effort to not wake my parents, I stumbled around getting my pajamas on very quietly until ramming solidly into the bureau which resulted in the statuette toppling down and crashing. The young man's head broke off and I placed it at his feet thinking surely no one would notice this. Especially since my father's on an African American art kick and he was sneaking new stuff in every day, hoping my mom wouldn't notice.