The Littlest Wobble
Small enough to vanish into a cupped palm: milk-white, rippled with the soft rings of the wheel, its rim dipping in one gentle, unhurried wave. No glaze fireworks here — just quiet cream and honest finger-lines. Its secret is only revealed on pickup: it settles into the hand as though it were measured for it, then politely refuses to be put down.
- Size
- One palm, exactly
- Fears
- Being put down
- Drinks
- Espresso, dispatched in two sips
- Fits
- Whoever happens to pick it up
- Older Sibling
- The First Wobble, obviously
