Are you singing the song, “Pop goes the weasel?” The lyrics go, “All around the cobbler’s bench, the monkey chased the weasel…” Anyway, I’m singing it. So, here’s the cobbler’s bench story. I was visiting my neighbors, Sam and Judy, and they showed me this sweet little cobbler’s bench that they picked up at a yard sale. I oohed and aahed how much I loved it. A few days later, they brought me the cobbler’s bench or should I say manicure bench? This makes me want to do my nails! They spoil me rotten and I love them for it. Thanks, Sam and Judy!!