So Sunday was spend with my BFF Madge and her daughter, Madgette. We set up bow-making stations in my dining room and went at it. As you can imagine, this was a comedy of errors.
One of us (MADGE!), could not figure out how to loop an awareness ribbon. (You know, one loop over. Like people wear for the troops or breast cancer. The simplest of all bowing.) Well, she could tie knots like a boy scout, but looping a ribbon was out of her grasp. Internet, I wish you could have seen her sitting there trying to figure out how to make a balanced figure-eight out of a strip of ribbon. She could have solved a Rubik Cube faster. She'd twist it and turn it, then examine it. Five minutes later she's undo all of her tedious, precious work and proclaim: IT WASN'T PERFECTLY EVEN. IT HAS TO BE EVEN. IT MUST BE BALANCED!!! Two which, I was all: EASY THERE, RAINMAN. REMEMBER, WE'RE STILL LEARNING. NOTHING IS GOING TO BE PERFECT.
Just as I was about to give up any hopes of finishing the project because my partner, Monk, was all OCD, the telephone rang and Madge had to leave to pick of her teenage, foreign exchange student from the mall. As soon as she left, I was all over that ribbon. When she returned half an hour later, there was a pile of imperfect, lightly uneven bows piled up ready for decoration. And, Internet, you might think I'm making fun of my sweet Madge and her perfectionism, but I swear to you I am not. I told you all that just so I could tell you this: She walked in, sat down and took a look at those bows and smiled. And not the kind of smile you give the slow kid when they draw a picture of heart that looks like a diseased lung. She was happy to have a point to more forth from. Even if it wasn't the best base, she was happy to have a foundation at all.
And so for the new several hours we cut, twisted, glued and decorated bows. There may have even been an incident of hot gluing a strip of ripen to the melting-prone table cloth (Momma Pug!). Nonetheless, we pushed onward and by 5:30 last night we had a decent start to Madge's bow business. They will be making their debut this weekend in Pearland at the craft fair. That is, if we survive until then.
The husband and I were gone from the house for a couple o hours after Madge left yeserday and I was all DO YOU SMELL GAS??
And Hub was all 'AOH MY GOD, THE OVER!!! THE OVER HAS BEEN LEFT ON. ALL. DAY.!!! YOU COULD HAVE BURNED THE HOUSE DOWN.
And I was all: Uhhhhhhh…. Oops?
So, Internet, come see us at our craft fair booth this weekend and buy something from us. It’s a good cause, especially if we are homeless after we forget to turn the over off and set all our shit on fire.
One of us (MADGE!), could not figure out how to loop an awareness ribbon. (You know, one loop over. Like people wear for the troops or breast cancer. The simplest of all bowing.) Well, she could tie knots like a boy scout, but looping a ribbon was out of her grasp. Internet, I wish you could have seen her sitting there trying to figure out how to make a balanced figure-eight out of a strip of ribbon. She could have solved a Rubik Cube faster. She'd twist it and turn it, then examine it. Five minutes later she's undo all of her tedious, precious work and proclaim: IT WASN'T PERFECTLY EVEN. IT HAS TO BE EVEN. IT MUST BE BALANCED!!! Two which, I was all: EASY THERE, RAINMAN. REMEMBER, WE'RE STILL LEARNING. NOTHING IS GOING TO BE PERFECT.
Just as I was about to give up any hopes of finishing the project because my partner, Monk, was all OCD, the telephone rang and Madge had to leave to pick of her teenage, foreign exchange student from the mall. As soon as she left, I was all over that ribbon. When she returned half an hour later, there was a pile of imperfect, lightly uneven bows piled up ready for decoration. And, Internet, you might think I'm making fun of my sweet Madge and her perfectionism, but I swear to you I am not. I told you all that just so I could tell you this: She walked in, sat down and took a look at those bows and smiled. And not the kind of smile you give the slow kid when they draw a picture of heart that looks like a diseased lung. She was happy to have a point to more forth from. Even if it wasn't the best base, she was happy to have a foundation at all.
And so for the new several hours we cut, twisted, glued and decorated bows. There may have even been an incident of hot gluing a strip of ripen to the melting-prone table cloth (Momma Pug!). Nonetheless, we pushed onward and by 5:30 last night we had a decent start to Madge's bow business. They will be making their debut this weekend in Pearland at the craft fair. That is, if we survive until then.
The husband and I were gone from the house for a couple o hours after Madge left yeserday and I was all DO YOU SMELL GAS??
And Hub was all 'AOH MY GOD, THE OVER!!! THE OVER HAS BEEN LEFT ON. ALL. DAY.!!! YOU COULD HAVE BURNED THE HOUSE DOWN.
And I was all: Uhhhhhhh…. Oops?
So, Internet, come see us at our craft fair booth this weekend and buy something from us. It’s a good cause, especially if we are homeless after we forget to turn the over off and set all our shit on fire.
2 comments:
An Update:
All the girls in Madgette's class loved the Hannah Montana bow today. She says the other little girls wanted to touch it, and she was all "that's cool"
So I might get out of debt if the rest of them are that popular!
OH MUH GAWD. I NEERLY DIED FROM SMOKE INHELLATION. YOU HUSSIES. I SWEAR. DADDUH LEAVES AND IT ALL GOES TO THIT.
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