If ever there was any doubt about the future of Mock Me Monday, let me put those fears to rest once and for all.
It's been a busy weekend around the Rocho household. I spent the majority of the weekend cleaning my daughter's room. You wouldn't think a ten year old would be able to amass such a monumental stash of stuff, but let me assure you my daughterling is an over-achiever in that regard. I think maybe we need to cut back on watching Hoarders.
That doesn't have a darned thing to do with the story except for the fact that I was fatigued and not thinking as clearly as I might have been otherwise.
The other daughterling landed her first job recently. We went out a week or so ago to buy a few pair of pants/shirts for her to wear to work. Only, they were about six inches too long, so they needed to be hemmed.
Guess who got elected?
I don't have a sewing machine or anything. And for good reason. I can't sew.
What I do have, though, is a quaint little sewing basket I got from Fingerhut a hundred years ago.
So daughterling tried the pants on, I pinned them to the approximate length and set to work. Normally, I would just roll the excess fabric up and stitch it into place, but if I did that with these pants, it'd look like she had little donuts around her ankles. So I cut the excess off. Not well - it's amazing how crooked it was, but I tucked the ragged edge under and pinned both.
That thing about me not sewing? Not an exaggeration. I have an irrational fear that the thread will break and the hem will just pop out all at once. So, I knotted the thread every few stitches so if it DID break, it wouldn't come completely undone.
I congratulated myself on my brilliance. Daughterling is kinda persnickety about her clothes and whatnot, I'd never hear the end of it if my handiwork came undone and she had one pant leg longer than the other one.
I finished early -- by my estimations and set them aside. Which is when I noticed that I had one leg inside out and the other right side out. I had to rip out the seam and start over...which was a BEAR because of all those stinking knots I'd placed every other stitch.
She's got two more pairs that need fixing. I'm going in search of that magic iron on seam tape. I bet if I look close the ten year old has some in her room somewhere....