My grandmother was truly a domestic goddess. She cooked. She baked. She sewed. And to her credit, she tried to teach me, her only granddaughter to do all of these things. I am without excuse. I learned, but I never took to it. I cook like an Italian, throwing everything in and taste-testing. She measured things -- this is why I can't bake to save my life.
So my daughter bought a prom dress that I adore, but it had this sheath of lace that allowed for cleavage. Um, I'm against cleavage, especially on a teenage girl, so this meant, I had to sew. Let me be clear, I took it to the seamstress first, but she said I had to pick out the fabric and bring it back to them. Seriously? If I have to do all that, I will sew it myself.
So I went to the fabric store and waited in line with all the crafty people. Then, I took out the trusty sewing box that my grandmother bought me as a child.
And I sewed a little piece of flesh-colored fabric behind the flesh-colored lace. Voila! We had a dress ready for primetime at the Christian Senior Prom. However, this is my daughter, so that wasn't good enough. The waistline is itchy. "Can you sew in something to make it not itchy?"
Can I? We shall see. You know what I can do? I can write a book, paint and quote Austen. Why are we never appreciated for what we CAN do as parents? I'll grant you, those are pretty useless skills as a parent, but I think there is ONE meal that all my kids will eat anyway -- roast chicken or Thanksgiving dinner. Everything else, they complain about. One likes this, the other likes that. Cooking for six picky people for two decades will put anyone off cooking.
My dad is taking a cooking class in Italy. You know what I love about my dad? He didn't even ask me to join them. He knows. Cooking is not fun for me. Eating, that's another story. Anyway, today I'm making a satin sash to go inside my daughter's dress so she doesn't itch. Normal moms probably wouldn't need to brag on this. But I do, because I am fulfilling my grandmother's dream for me. Perhaps one day, I'll pull out the unused cookie gun she bought me for my 40th birthday and really prove my worth. Anything can happen.