Are you familiar with those children's craft blogs where mothers make the most beautiful, wonderful toys and crafts for their children? This isn't one of them. Sure, I can do a bit of lacemaking and embroidery but actually do proper crafts? Are you kidding? The last time tie dye touched my hands was around 1970. I can manage pretty things, but cute? Creative? Nah. I let the kid glue macaroni to a paper plate and call it a day.
We have a box of 1,000 wooden sticks. While Danny tossed hand fulls in every room of the house, I sat on the floor amused with some felt scraps, tape, and scissors. Sure, my mother used to make us wonderful paper dolls and outfits but she was an art student and knew how to do that sort of thing. I'm an anthropologist-I can tell you all about playthings in non Western cultures-but make one? Really, I don't think so.
I sort of like Your Crappy Mama (TM) as she sort of looks like I feel. I can just hear her telling you to "Quit picking it, you'll leave a scar." Yep, that's Your Crappy Mama (TM).
"Don't slouch."
"You want I should eat pork?"
"Fine, marry her...if you need me I'll be leaping from the Tobin bridge."
"What's with the faces? Always with the faces?"
(Wait, I think I just turned her into my grandmother-put a Ukrainian accent on the above)
I tatted her bodice and hat-impressive, no? And look, she's reading Guilty Carnivore (why aren't you reading Guilty Carnivore, huh? Because you're too busy chasing fast women, making faces and slouching? Huh? Huh?).
Don't slouch.
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