This is what happens when I start in on my mom about organizing her sewing room, which typically looks like a bomb of fabric and ribbon has exploded only seconds before.
I start nagging her to pare down some of her goods, and before long we’ve spied some red gingham fabric that is screaming to be made into an apple applique and a matching skirt.
Two hours later, nothing has been organized or rearranged or thrown away, but Mary Bullock has a new back-to-school outfit. And the fabric bomb has moved to the dining room.
Which is all worth it when Mary Bullock puts it on in the morning and squeals TUUUUUTE, MAMA! and then APPLE! SHIRT!
A few more squeals like that, and there might be a fabric bomb in my house one of these days.
But don’t mention this to Lee. I’m trying to break it to him slowly.