you should take a picture

Madison has this stuffed giraffe that she loves. Actually she loves all her stuffed animals, so it's not like this one was particularly special, but it had a hole in the seam in it's back and she was upset and wanted me to fix it. I told her to stick it in my room and I'd get around to it.

A MONTH LATER she sat in my room holding it, and with those big brown puppy dog eyes asked "have you fixed it yet?". "Fine!!" I say. "I'll do it now!" and disappear into my closet to retrieve my sewing kit. For those of you who know me well enough, it must come as some shock that I actually have a sewing kit. Necessities. Sometimes, on the rare occasion, I will see fit to sew on a button. Or perform surgery on giraffes. My sewing kit consists of a 3" x 4" white jewelry gift box with some colored thread, a needle or two, that little thingy to thread the needles, and a teeny tiny pair of scissors. And lost buttons that never made it back on shirts.

I sit on my bed and John looks over at me "What are you doing?" he asks.
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Wow." he says, "we should take a picture."
"You should. Scenes like this are pretty rare."
(he was too tired to get up and find the camera.- so sorry no picture of me)

Ten minutes later, the giraffe has a nice scar on it's back, and Madison is happy. I have a love seat in my bedroom that I need to fix, the pillows are attached to the back of the couch and have separated from the back due to Christopher climbing up the back to get on my bed. I'm afraid to attempt to fix it. I really don't want a giant scar glaring at me, (cause there will be one) so I just look at the hole and stuff the stuffing back in instead, then rearrange all the furniture in my room so Christopher can't use it to climb into my bed, but I am totally not in love the with new arrangement. But I hate sewing that much to do something about it.

Truth be told, sewing is one of those talents I admire in other people and wish I had. I envy people who can just "whip up" curtains or throw pillows, or pretty little dresses for little girls. I think about learning, but then I remember how much I hated home ec. in jr. high, how ugly that nightgown I made was, how sewing machines in general hate me, how fabric stores scare me, and every time I step into one, I am sure I give off some kind of aura that tells everyone that I can't sew and don't belong there. I need to figure out a way to trade caramels for upholstery mending favors. Any takers?