When my little boy learned to sew
It gives me a great sense of accomplishment to be able to thread my sewing machine. Seeing as I only use it a few times a year, it’s a miracle I remember how to snake the thread along the correct path, around the hook, behind the thing-a-ma-jig and finally through the needle.
I can’t really sew and only made a B+ on the skirt I made in 9th grade Home Economics class. Required to wear our creations to school, I carried my skirt in a paper bag and snuck into the bathroom before class to put it on, then changed back out of it as soon as possible. Although I’m no Natalie Chanin, I am a master at sewing straight lines. This means I can make curtains, pillows, and stitch around tablecloths. My grandmother, who sewed all four of her daughter’s poufy dresses and many of my clothes, would roll her eyes at my definition of “sewing,” but the little bit I know makes me feel more domestic than cooking dumplings from scratch.
I had the sewing machine out one day years ago when my youngest son took an interest. He’s the curious sort and wanted to look at all the levers and switches. As soon as I said, “Be careful, it has sharp parts,” he was highly motivated to use this new dangerous piece of heavy equipment. At one time, my husband’s father owned an upholstery shop, so we told our son about Pop’s giant machines and after a quick tutorial, he was off and sewing.
I figured he would just play around with some basic stitches, then be done with it, but about an hour later . . . click HERE to finish the story.
What a sweet, touching story 🙂
Thanks Rachel. You know he also has his regular teenaged moments too, so it’s nice to remember times like this!
Leslie Anne you brought tears to this Mother”s eyes! That is the sweetest story and thank you for sharing it!
They all have their moments of sweetness, don’t they? Thanks, Pam.
oh my goodness, that’s the sweetest thing I ever heard! That’s a darn good L!
Jenna
I thought for having all of about two hours of practice, he did a fine job!
Leslie Anne, that is such a sweet little story! I’m sure your little pillow is more precious to you than diamonds. Just happy your boys didn’t finish the “flying suit!” 🙂
That’s the truth!
I think I need Joseph to make me one one of those for my own aching hands! So sweet and empathetic at such a young age. I love the story of the “flying suit” — too funny.
Yes, if I hadn’t jolted out of bed when I did, I think it would have turned into a hospital story!
That is just the sweetest story ever!
Thanks Marsha. He’s a sweet teen now.