46) Sewing Machine Redemption

3-4 years ago L. talked about wanting to learn how to sew. She wished to learn how to hem her own pants, make curtains, or fix small issues with torn blankets caused by our cats. It was an innocent remark that led to me buying her a nice sewing machine for Christmas to show her I was listening. I wanted to show her I support her in the endeavors she wishes to pursue in this life no matter how much I like or dislike them.

The sewing machine, as well as my attempts to show her how much I cared, completely underwhelmed her. She responded like Wayne and Garth when they visited green-screen Delaware. She said, "Hey look. A sewing machine. Thanks. I don't know what I will do with it, but thanks. Does this mean I have to start sewing stuff? Merry Christmas to you too, I guess..."

I saw her disappointment and apologized, explaining the comments and thoughts behind the present. And for the last three years, while the sewing machine collected dust in our guest room closet, she would add disclaimers when talking to me. She would say things like, "I like the sweet potato fries at Jake's Hamburgers. But hey, you don't need to get me gift certificates to the restaurant for Christmas this year, okay?" Or, "I wish I could speak another language. Oh, but please don't sign me up for a class this year for Christmas. Thanks."

This past weekend L.'s mother visited from Houston. Yards of cloth littered our living room because of a recent project we were working on to protect our new couch from our cats and dog. D. asked what we were up to and L. answered, "We are hand sewing covers for our couch cushions, because we were stupid and bought a white couch. It has taken us 3 weeks to finish 2 1/2 cushions!!!"

D. responded, "You should get a sewing machine. You could be done in a couple of hours, if you had one of those."

Liz laughed and took yet another opportunity to point out what a foolish Christmas present I purchased 3 years ago, explaining to her mother that we do have a sewing machine, but we could not get it to work properly. D. asked if she could see it. She offered to help us finish our couch cushion project if she could figure out how to make the machine work.

And she could. They assembled the bobbin, ran the thread, adjusted the stitch settings and grabbed a phone book to hoist the foot pedal. Each time the digital screen blinked an error message they consulted the manual and untangled any issues they encountered. A couple of hours later they finished the first cushion cover. L. ran into the living room where I watched basketball and hugged me, exclaiming how happy she was to have a sewing machine. She said, "Look at these stitches! This is much better than hand sewing. And you know what? Now I can hem my pants, or make curtains for our living room. I could even make a wiener dog pillow cover!"

I said, "You know, I think you owe me an apology for all the shit you've given me the last three years for this present."

She smiled and said, "You're right. I'm sorry for all the shit I've given you. I love the sewing machine and can't wait until I am better at using it. Thanks."

And though I am happy the present turned out okay, I must admit I am still somewhat of an idiot for getting her the the sewing machine. No matter what is said, if she got me a hedge-trimmer for Christmas so that I could more easily trim our front bushes, I would probably unwrap the present and say, "Hey look. Hedge-trimmers. Thanks. I don't know what I will do with this, but thanks." And perhaps three years down the line when our bushes are completely out of hand I could trim them and be thankful...