I've mentioned here before how my mother made me memorize the Serenity Prayer as a child suffering from anxiety instead of taking me to therapy or, which would have been even better, taking the whole family to therapy, and bought me a little china teacup that had the text painted on it to display in my bedroom.
But I don't think I ever confessed that the teacup's eventual fate was to go under my Barbie dolls' bed and be their chamber pot when they were 19th-century pioneers living in the Wild West.












