In the throes of tantrum city, Hayley ripped the foot off of “Cheep-Cheep”, a little stuffed knit duck that was actually meant to be an Easter decoration but to which she has formed an odd and spontaneous attachment over the past few days. I just sewed it back on. A seamstress I am not (you should see me trying to thread a frickin’ needle), so it’s not an beautiful job but the foot is back on and Cheep-Cheep is waiting on the kitchen counter for her tomorrow morning.
After almost three years, I *finally* feel like a real mother now that I’ve officially nursed a wounded stuffed toy back to good health.
Oh no! Poor cheep-cheep!
Here’s hoping the stitch-up stays. My oldest has a stuffed monkey, that’s got to be at least 30 years old. I’m not kidding. His grammie had it when she was a kid, I think. Monkey’s right arm has fallen off no less than eight times in recent years. It’s getting to the point that I don’t know if it can handle one more repair job. I’m totally afraid to put it into the washing machine. It might dissintegrate!