I squirm; the tea cozies are supposed to be a front for my money laundering operation. “Yeah…my grandma knits ’em.”
“How much?” she asks.
I tell her an absurdly high price, wondering what she’ll say. To my surprise, she pays it, takes a lemon yellow Siamese cat cozy, and walks out grinning like she’s eaten a canary.
A week later, there’s a line around the block for tea cozies.
Finally, I decide to give up money laundering, because tea cozies are way more lucrative.