Yeah, It's My Birthday, Alright

It certainly is. And I can feel my Advancing Age. Here's the latest example.

I'm in the sewing room, putting a new spool of thread on the Bernina. I'm all set. I have the bobbin in, the machine threaded up, my little circle skirt pinned to the bodice. All I need to do is baste the skirt to the bodice. I'm very excited. I even have the glasses on.

I put the dress on the machine, line everything up, lower the presser foot, and I push down on the foot lever. Nothing. No sewing action AT ALL. Just a really loud "Wwwhhheeeeeeeeeeee" noise.

I try again. "Wwwwhhheeeeeeeeeee."

I remove the dress, turn off the machine. Take a deep breath. Turn the machine back on again. "Wwwhhhheeeeeeeeeee."

I turn the thing off and try it again. "Wwwhhheeeeeeee."

My ears tear up. Blurred vision. One more time. "Wwwhhheeeeeeeee."

A Random Teenager walks past the sewing room door. I'm desperate.

Me: "Honey, I can't sew. The Bernina won't work."

RT: Notices the tears. "What's wrong with it?"

Me: "I don't know. It won't work. It keeps doing this---"Wwwhhheeeeeee."

RT: Gives the Bernina A Look That Would Melt Polyester. "What is that noise?"

Me: "I don't know." "Wwwwheeeeeeee." "I have to take it to the repair shop."

RT: Serious look on young face. He KNOWS that he will have to go with me to the repair shop. And that I will be tense and tearful all the way there. "Do you have it threaded right?"

Me: "Of course. I just redid it." I reach up to show him and notice that the BOBBIN WINDER is turned on.................

"Oh, no. I had the bobbin winder turned on."

RT: Gives me The Look. The Look, that with just one glance, tells me all I need to know.

I am getting old.

RT: Look changes to the Thank You, Lord Look. You've seen it yourself on the faces of your own offspring. It's The Look that says:

Thank you, Lord, for letting her figure this out right now, here, in the privacy of our own home, so that her Total Stupidity can remain a family secret.

Thank you, Lord, for letting her figure this out right now, so that I don't have to ride in the car with her at breakneck speed for 75 miles to the Bernina place, with her crying and swerving all over the road.

Thank you, Lord, for letting her figure this out right now, so that I don't have to tote that stupid sewing machine into the Bernina place, with her crying and all, only to have the Bernina lady take one look and say, "You have the bobbin winder turned on."

Thank you, Lord, for sparing me the ultimate humiliation of being embarassed by my mother IN PUBLIC.

Thank you, Lord, for letting her sew tonight, so she will forget that I STILL haven't cleaned my nasty, filthy bathroom.

I dried my face, lowered the presser foot, and 15 minutes later I had this:





I'm happy now. And I should be, because it IS my birthday, after all.