I've been trying to take a picture of the apron I made my mother for her birthday. It is a full length apron (that is, chest to knees) and needs a proper draping job to show off its cute little skirt. Unfortunately, Will is too short to model it effectively for the camera and Jack is too dignified. I've tried draping it over a bush and hanging it from a tree, without impressive results.
Add to the draping issues the problem of its needing to be ironed. I was hoping if I got the right play of shadow and light, you might not notice how wrinkled the apron is. Who was I kidding? A blind man would have noticed. (Please note: I was planning on ironing it before sending it to my mother. Honest, I really was not going to pretend it got wrinkled during shipping.)
Tomorrow I will iron and try again. The nice thing about showing you a picture is that you'll never know that it hangs sort of funny when worn by an actual human being (as opposed to a tree), or that it will probably fall apart during its first washing. My mom won't care. She's a mom. She knows that when it comes to a gift from a child, it's the thought that counts, even when said child is 44.
Despite my difficulties sewing an apron a four-year-old with decent fine motor skills could make, I am still determined to learn how to sew, if for no other reason than to convince myself I just can't be as stupid as sewing makes me feel.
Which reminds me: The other day I flipped through a file of old papers and found some of my elementary school report cards. There's one from fourth grade, and I've received check-pluses in everything except math, in which I've received a check-minus. My father has written a note in the comment section: "We are concerned our daughter is having problems with math. Is this a soft spot for her?"
If only my teacher--Mrs. Daughtery, an elderly woman with powdery skin and a penchant for polyester--had written back, "Math is a gaping, black cavity of despair for your daughter, and it always will be. From your note, I predict you will waste hundreds if not thousands of dollars on tutors and SAT prep courses for her, and later regret every dime when it finally dawns on you that, mathematically-speaking, your daughter is as dumb as dirt."
Really, it would have saved everyone a lot of grief in the long run.
Your Tiny Hand Is Frozen
5 hours ago