“Wake up, Ruby.”
I gently pulled on Ruby’s foot encased in a Halloween sock. Then I pulled harder. She didn’t respond. A little more and she woke up.
Ruby peeked at me and stretched. She’s not a morning person. But I was in here for a purpose.
“I need a needle and thread to sew this button on.” I fished the metallic-toned button out of my pocket to show her.
“Do you know where a needle and thread might be?”
Ruby, still groggy, looked at me.
I repeated my request. I should also mention she’s struggling to hear of late, as fluid has collected in her ears. Dr. Daniella says so.
Ruby shook her head ever so slightly.
“Ruby, you have all the sewing stuff in your room. You have to have something.” I couldn’t keep the exasperation out of my voice. I’d asked her at least 2 times before to collect the materials for me. I hate to excavate her room. Even when she “cleans” it, it remains a messy abyss. It takes a village. Truly.
She didn’t like that. She threw the covers over her head, but not before I saw the scowl on her face. Waking up is hard to do.
I walked over to the light and turned it on. I searched on her capacious desk. What was that? A large spool of black thread. I shifted some papers around and low and behold, I found a packet of needles…with needles inside it. Then, I spied purple-handled safety scissors. Voila!
“Thanks, Ruby!” I said as loudly as I could before stepping out the door. I left the light on.
I want to tell you this is the first time I’ve sewn a button back on these pants. But it isn’t. This is the second time. Which says either: a) I got too fat and poor lil button couldn’t handle the strain, or b) I sew poorly.
Let’s go with b.
It took me awhile to get the needle threaded. The eye was tiny and I kept missing it. I considered asking Ruby to help me but reconsidered it as a fool’s errand. Finally, the hardest part was done.
I should also mention I’ve put this chore off for, oh, weeks now. Sewing intimidates me. Ruby loves it, however. She makes things out of leftover fabric with joy. She creates reasons to sew. It’s a way to express herself.
Dear reader, I don’t see my perception of sewing changing anytime soon. But I’m glad I can do the basic things when needed. Now if I could get her to *really* clean her room…