Posts Tagged ‘superheroes’


August 25, 2010

Returning from vacation means trying to remember what it is I do around here, which buttons I should never push under any circumstances, who likes coconut and who doesn’t (I think it’s only me). It also means getting back to the to-do list. So, I headed off to dust my sewing table.

After three years of saying, “One more project and then the sewing machine goes in for a tune-up,” I packed my trusty Viking off to the shop before we left for a family reunion. I’m afraid to hear what lurked inside once I saw the compacted layer of dust bunnies and threadies underneath it.

A true empty nest

My husband made this sewing table/cutting table/storage unit for me when I first started quilting. He and I both thought four drawers would be sufficient to hold my fabric collection. We laugh now – well, I laugh. He tries to avoid looking in the sewing room at all lest he find something like this:

Although I made time to pack up the machine, I did not make time to pack up the fabric I was using to make kits. Nor did I take time to clear off the ironing board.

Cleaning off the ironing board is second on the list. Once I’ve dusted the sewing table, I need to fix some clothing for my son. And that’s where the title of today’s blog comes in – he asked me to fix a zipper.

Now that you’ve stopped shrieking, let me remind you that if you don’t know something is hard, you just do it. The first time I joined a friendship group, I asked them to make Bear Paws blocks for me. Kind ladies that they are, they didn’t grumble a bit. I don’t know if I can ever apologize enough to them.

At any rate, I told my son I would try to fix the zipper, but it might take some time and perhaps he should just buy some new clothes. I told him I had nearly failed junior high home ec because of the zipper project and I would need to prepare myself.

He said, “So I just handed you kryptonite?”

We had a good laugh, but it made me think. On some level, my almost-college-graduate still thinks parents are invincible (perhaps because he has yet to outwrestle me for the last chocolate chip cookie). As charming as this is, how many of us think that while we really aren’t ten feet tall and bullet-proof, we ought to be?

Ask yourself, how many times have you squeezed in one last project because someone asked you, and it’s a good cause, and no one else had volunteered? How many times have you told yourself of course you can make one more batch of brownies for the bake sale, spend another afternoon calling for volunteers, fill in on that extra shift? This is the kind of person that keeps the world spinning properly on its axis, and I’m not saying we should refuse to pitch in when we can help. But we all have our kyptonite, and it really is OK to say no.

Or tell your kid to buy new clothes.