Okay, I like to think I’m not the completely emotional type, (although I cry every time I watch The Biggest Loser) but when it comes to my twelve year old step daughter, I melt. Like, the inner bitch leaves the building, the world stops spinning, and your wish is my command. Lately, we’ve really been connecting with creative endeavors, and it makes my heart sing Mariah Carey-esque whistle notes. She goes to an all-girls Catholic private school (technically she’s Catholic, but for educational purposes only) and recently has been learning about sewing. Woodshop is next trimester, so mad props to the school for not gender stereotyping! She came to visit over the school holidays and mentioned she would be making an apron the next trimester. The conversation went a bit like this:
“It has to be all white with just a pocket in the colour we want. I guess I should make the pocket pastel pink because that’s what everyone else is doing.”
Oh, I was having none of that! “That’s just silly! What do you really want it to be like?! Don’t be afraid to be different!”
“Well, I like teal and red colours, and bright yellow. And hot pink, and leopard, and zebra, and roller skates and just crazy stuff.” Crazy? Ha! That’s a typical day for Molli Sparkles!
“Oh, child. You have come to the right place.” Obviously my SPARKLE gene had been passed down! We immediately went fabric stash surfing and she picked out some beautifully complimentary fabrics. “But my apron has to be white,” she lamented. “Pfft! The apron you wear at school has to be white, but the apron you make for you can be whatever you want! Let’s show those boring bitches how’s its done!”
“I’m not allowed to say that word.”
“I know, ‘boring’ is such a disgusting word, I try not to say it either!”
A whole bunch of LOLs ensued.
So during the past few weeks we used the tutorial from Aesthetic Nest to make this fat quarter friendly reversible apron. Honestly, I sewed the pom pom trim in place, but she did the rest, including the ironing, measuring, rotary cutting, sewing, and WERK IT GIRL, modeling. I hovered over like a doting father / sparkle leader should, giving words of encouragement, and managing the seam ripper when needed. Oh, there are mistakes, and we are both fully aware of them, but the process mattered so much more than the product. And hey, the end product is fucking awesome — ‘boring’ got left at the curb.
The next day I took her to a netball game, and when the coach asked her, “Where’s your dad?” She turned around and pointed at me. That whistle note just went an octave higher.