I’ve been a terrible clutz the past two weeks — having exhausted nearly our entire supply of band-aids, I cut the knuckle of my little finger on a can. It wouldn’t stop bleeding, and I went through two more band-aids. I kept banging it on various objects and re-injuring it — two more band-aids. There were three bandages left in the house this morning. One is the size of a battle dressing, the other two were Buzz Lightyear strips. Great.
So today, I the professional quilt restorer, entered a potential client’s home with my badge of motherhood wrapped around my finger. I guess that’s better than bleeding all over her quilt.
On the way home, I stopped and got some grown-up band-aids.