Puppy's Last Stand

Thing 1 was recently engaged in a losing battle. She was trying to extend the life of a well-loved, well-worn, mostly decapitated, long ago stuffed puppy named....Puppy. Such was her desire to succeed that she gamely dug out sewing paraphenalia and sat for two solid hours attempting to stitch some life back into Puppy. I was of no use to her. I can't sew, can rarely thread a needle, and most of the other tools were unrecognizable to me. She must have gotten this kit from a relative.

But I admired her can-do spirit. She gets that from Big Man. Me? I know what I am good and not good at and rarely bust out of my boundaries. With the world so crazy these days, I like the predictabiltiy of knowing who I am. One thing I can count on is that I can't sew.

Puppy now sports a very tenous hold on the last stage of his life. The bright red thread screams, "I will not go down without a fight."

I get that. I feel that way a lot, which is why I write.
At the very least, you put something out there and maybe someone pauses, maybe a small ripple is made. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

So, no, I didn't teach Thing 1 to sew, but it seems, at least somewhere in this wonky, disjointed life we lead, a larger lesson has been imparted and that maybe I had something to do with it......maybe.