If I tell you I saw Rembrandt this morning, his face staring up at me from my bathroom rug, of all places, would you think me insane or would you direct me to the proper authorities?
Had it been the Virgin Mary I’d seen, I’d know exactly who to contact. Alas, it’s a long-dead Dutch painter.
On second thought, it might not be Rembrandt at all, but instead the steely-eyed conquistador whose likeness graced the walls of my childhood home during one of Mom’s theme periods of decorating.
Although, the image bears a striking resemblance to a hat-wearing woman from a famous painting, the title of which escapes my mind, except the visage on my bath mat clearly has a mustache, and the lady in the painting does not.
But, wait. It’s none of the above.
The closer I get the more I realize it’s likely Sigmund Freud come to call. Oh, the irony.

Peace, people.
I thought I was the only one who sees faces in the inanimate!
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Oh, I’m so glad I’m not alone!
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Lol
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I allowed my eyes to go limp and I finally saw the head and neck of a Great Dane wearing my Moms fake fur Russian winter hat. I think perhaps your illness has effected your brain.
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Oh you made me laugh out loud, and I’m sitting outside among other diners.
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Can you see it? Lower middle.
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No, but I do see a college grad taking off her mortarboard.
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Oh my goodness! I just saw the greyhound in the picture of the bath mat.
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😂
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Nice article 👍
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You could ahve conversations with whoever it is.
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I’d be a bit shy, and my Dutch is awful.
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With those lips it must be a woman
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Ha!
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