I do not sew. I do not want to learn. I have no passion to make my own clothes or give my creations to friends for special celebrations.
I admire those who can. Funny thing is: my husband is one of them. Apparently that is one of the patches he earned in Boy Scouts. Just a side note: I was in Girl Scouts and my patch was for the tin foil oven I built at camp. I unfortunately did not retain that skill, so you're sure to find me starving if I ever get lost in the woods. You're likely to also find holes in my clothes since I may have mentioned, I do not sew.
This leads us to the other day when Scooter, my younger son finally decided to take on Karate. Since we were all unsure how long this passion would last, the Sensei thought it would be wise to borrow a uniform until we were absolutely sure Scooter was serious.
I refuse to complain about anything that is given to me for free and with kindness. However, one look at Scooter, and you can tell, he is not very tall. Unfortunately, the only pair of pants they had to spare were definitely made for a taller kid.
Did I mention that I don't sew?
And this is where Mother's intuition along with invention comes into play. I went into the trusty sewing box (which belongs to Hubby) and found a few safety pins. And like magic, the pants were fixed. Well actually, they had kind of a hobo look to them. Each pant leg was rolled about five times. Then these giant safety pins were poking out from the sides. The only thing my child was missing was a bottle wrapped in a paper bag.
It was a good fix for the night, but it looks like I will be buying a new uniform this week. Right after Scooter ran off the mat crying, I knew he had been injured by my make shift sewing project. "Something poked me," he shouted.
Suddenly I felt all those parents looking at me wondering: "What's wrong with you lady?" "Don't you know how to sew?"
Well ladies, I may not know how to sew, but I can make a kick ass cake in an Easy Bake Oven.