So here's the deal. I'm simply nutzo for sewing. Allow me to illustrate. This is a picture of my very first plush creation in January (it's a manatee, awful, but a manatee no less):
And this is the basset hound I made yesterday:
It turns out that practice really does make perfect. I'm unstoppable. But that by no means implies that my life as I otherwise know it simply stopped the second I plugged in my sewing machine.
For example, Pixie has been up to her usual foolishness. She's obsessed with her long hair and insists that it's her one, divine quality. I was attempting to straighten up her hair after a windblown day at the park and pushed her overgrown bangs behind her ear. "Mom, stop that! You're making me look like a short, little man!" I asked her what she meant. "Princesses always have their hair in their faces like this," she said as she raked her bangs back across her eyes and peered seductivly at me from behind the hairy veil. I swear I didn't teach her that.
Which reminds me, I should probably be teaching her more because the other evening my husband Spike asked her, "Pixie, would you rather be pretty or smart?"
"Ooooh, pretty! It's so embarrassing to be smart!"
Ever since then, my bedtime stories have detailed how the princesses use math and linguistic skills to defeat the evil dragons rather than a handy prince. Let's pray to the heavens it isn't too little too late.
My all time favorite answer to the "pretty or smart" question came from my nephew when he was five years old. "Sam, would you rather marry someone who was pretty or someone who was smart?" He replied without a second's hesitation.
"Pretty. Because if they are dumb you can just teach 'em stuff."
So life rolls on at the Flake house. I apologize, (as usual) for the pathetic posting. I'm going to punish myself by making a big batch of turtle stuffed animals this morning. Bwa ha ha ha ha!
Oh, and I'd rather marry someone pretty as well. Spike is a total hottie.