Today I'm thankful that my mom taught me how to sew.

11/7/19

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Well, kind of. That may be a bit of a stretch.

Tomorrow is Western Round-up at school and I have a specific pair of pants that I want to wear with a specific flannel shirt and a specific pair of boots and a specific cowboy hat. Tonight, about 9:00, I realized that the shirt was missing a button and the pants were dirty. Yup - sounds about right. Procrastination at its finest.

Now it's 10:15 and I just pulled the pants out of the dryer and realized that the pants' button fell off in the dryer. What are the chances?

So, I pulled out my trusty sewing box, grabbed a needle and thread, and sewed my buttons back on.

My mom is an excellent seamstress. So was my grandma. And my great-grandma. And likely my great-great-grandma and my triple great grandma before them.

I didn't inherit this gift naturally, nor the patience to truly learn. Honestly, I can't really sew well at all. I like to pretend that a few skills stuck with me from the things my mom taught me as a kid. I did make a vest as a Girl Scout project in 6th grade. And I made some awesome curtains for one of my classrooms a bunch of years ago. And I even whipped up a Mama Bear dress once to be half of a Berenstain Bears costume. But don't be fooled -- these items were all terribly constructed and no one should ever be allowed to turn them inside out and look at the scraggly stitches or uneven seams.

Tonight's buttons, though ... I rocked 'em. And even though I'm sure my mom and grandma and the long line of sewing ancestors before them could've each completed the work in a fraction of the time it took me, I'm still gonna chalk it up as a win.