In grade 8 (that's how we said it in Ontario: we didn't know what "junior high" was, except that the kids on Degrassi eventually went to one) I failed my first class. In each of the previous years I had been great at school. And, I don't want to brag (I have a wife to brag for me) but I was smart.
That fall, though, I went into the school year a little distracted. My parents were divorcing, we were moving around a lot, and I just stopped caring about school entirely. For a couple of weeks I stopped going, and a member of the school board came to my apartment to check up on me and bring me in.
One of the classes that I really neglected was Family Studies (home economics to my American friends). I liked the cooking part, and I still do, but I couldn't get excited about the sewing kit project we had to do. I had a Siamese cat kit, but I didn't turn it in.
So I failed. It was only a mid-term report card, but still, I failed that class. I have never been excited about sewing.
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Over the weekend while I was away Erin started walking everywhere. She also started going baby-crazy, mauling other kids to kiss them and hug them, and carrying a little baby doll with her wherever she went.
If you look closely you might be able to see that a seam has popped on the baby doll's left ankle.
"Does Daddy need to do surgery on your baby doll?" Emily asked Erin this morning.
Daddy? Daddy failed sewing. He wasn't enthusiastic about it at 13, and he's not enthusiastic about it at 30.
And the wound looked substantial enough that I was probably going to just have to amputate the foot.
But I sucked it up, got out one of those little sewing kits that Emily stole from a hotel somewhere because it was small and looked like it was made for kitties, and I performed my first doll surgery.
I didn't do a great job. There's some fluff sticking out, and the edges are raggedy. But in all fairness to me it was sewed on the inside in the first place, before being stuffed, and there was no way I was going to unstuff it to do it the right way.
This would be reason number 14 that you don't want me as your doctor.
17 comments:
Good for you doctor...you can come and sew at my house anytime. and while you are at it - can you explain what that big surf board with the legs that fold up under it is doing in my closet? And what about that old fashioned telephone with the flat bottom and plug is? I found it under that pile of shirts on the closet floor??
I have sewed (badly) my share of stuffed animals. In fact, the latest was a mermaid whose tail had a hole in it just about where her 'human' bum would be if she had one. Rachel asked me to fix her to 'keep her mermaid poopies from falling out'. So I did. Now she is losing her mermaid boogers.
Lovely.
www.swirlgirlspearls.blogspot.com
Ok that is waaay better than I could do. I am a woman and I have no clue how to sew. And probably never will. I am proud of that.
Great job on the sewing! Much better than my 8th grade efforts would have accomplished. I've been seeing you on Dad Gone Mad for a couple of months and finally clicked on in. Your daughter is beautiful.
I'm sure Erin won't critique your sewing job--she'll just be happy she can keep carrying the doll around.
Just reason number 14?
What are the first thirteen reason? And are there any other more reasons?
'Cause I can think of a few.
;)
Your first doll surgery? You are officially a Father. ;)
When I was but a girl, like 11 or 12 and with less awesome hair (I know! How's that even possible?!), I was in 4-H, and I sewed a pair of pajamas (Pants AND a top! With decorative bric-a-brac! Or wric-a-wrac. Hell, I don't know. It was wavy piping)that earned me a purple ribbon at the county fair. Purple ribbons are like reaching the top of Mt. Everest for hick girls like me!
Today? Dude, I can't even sew a button on. If someone's loses one from a shirt or pair of pants, we go to this magic place where they sell new shirts or pants. I don't like that to happen very much though, so there's been a time or two where I've used a stapler (shhhh...).
I've got nothing but big respect for you, sir. Did you do that with a slip stitch? You can say you did, it won't mean anything to me if you say it's something different!
Would you like to be officially scared?
Okay, well too bad.
I'm a nurse.
How flipping scary is that?
I'm showing this to my husband. I'm tired of doing doll surgery!
Dad to the rescue. Lovely running whipstitch. If only all wounds could be healed so easily.
"A" for effort in this case. I think your old Family Studies teacher would be proud. More importantly, your little girl will be so happy.
wow, I'm impressed! I'm a girl and I can't sew to save my life. Maybe I can sew a button back on, but it probably wouldn't be done properly and would fall off again soon.
well done sir. So long as you stay away from circumcisions/vascetomies, we'll all get along fine.
swirl girl: I just use the surfboard thing as an exercise bike...without pedals.
becs: you are woman, hear you roar, sewing skills to poor to ignore...
sprite's keeper: ah, my constant Anaheim Ducks bashing finally paid off over there :}
jenn: no fair being serious. Now I'm going to be all weepy-eyed when I look at that doll.
badass geek: Well, reason number 6 was "I like to drink on the job". Reason number 11 was "hands as steady as a seismograph in California."
mamatulip: aw. Wait. Was that all it took?
FADKOG: Well, I did do a lock-stitch at the end so that it wouldn't unravel on her. Wow. I don't know what a lock-stitch is, but I think I really did one.
aunt becky: that's not scary at all. I would totally trust you to do all that nurse stuff. Uh...non-kinky nurse stuff.
heather: be prepared for very poor stitching jobs, then :}
merecat: is that what that was? I was just trying to avoid sticking my finger.
caramama: Well, maybe she wouldn't have failed me, anyway.
jennifer: ah, but buttons are easy; all the thread goes in essentially the same place, and it ends up hidden behind the button!
swanny: I'll try to resist :}
Where was I when you got to skip school for a few weeks? Geez. So unfair as usual.
my_dog_is_better: you were dutifully going to school at Vincent Massey. My bus picked up after yours, I think, so I would just decide during Tiny Toons that I wasn't going to catch it.
Nice job - I, myself, have become an expert and specialize in this type of micro-stuffing-repair surgery.
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