Lauren fell on the playground yesterday. She had worn black tights to school under her skirt, and when she skinned her knee, she ripped a hole in the knee. The school nurse had bandaged her knee. Sticking through the rather large hole was her pale knee covered by an almost comically large institutional bandage.
At bath time, as she was getting undressed, I said, "You can go ahead and throw the ripped tights in the garbage."
She pulled a pouty face. "They can't be sewn?"
I replied, "No, it just won't work out. I'm sorry. We'll have to buy you a new pair of black tights."
"But Mama, maybe you can't sew them...but surely my auntie can. She can sew anything!"
"Your auntie?" I struggled with whether she was referring to my sister or my sister-in-law. They both have artistic flair, but sewing? Doubtful.
"My auntie who sewed* Lindsay's bear."
"Ohhh...Auntie Sybil."
"Yes! Sybil can fix anything! Can we save them until we see her again?"
"I think not, but it was a good idea, Lo."
*[SIC] Bear is knit.
1 comment:
Alas, it's true. I had to say the very same thing to Eliot Spitzer this week.
Post a Comment