Ah, Aunt Minerva. She lived in a big old house with her maid and her little dog Ellsworth, and when we were kids we dreaded visiting her. It wasn’t just that she wouldn’t tolerate noise…or that we had to refer to her dog as our “cousin”. But Ellsworth, with his little yappy voice and stylish sparkly collar, would have a place at the table during mealtimes. And while we ate hot dogs on paper plates, Ellsworth had minced sirloin on china. His own china. In memory of Aunt Minerva and her little dog, too, we bring you this shirt. It’ll spoil you with its comfort!
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