My fellow patrons at Jo-Ann Fabrics this past Wednesday were all super-seamstresses. The kind of women (like Jan or Gail) who could make something gorgeous on their sewing machines while simultaneously sleeping. These women intimidate me. They make my armpits sweaty while I wait 14 deep at the cutting counter. They look at my cart filled with beginner notions and cotton cloth and judge me (I know that you do it Jan!).
On top of my insecurities, my four children were with me. They were being very, very good, but it was the middle of the day on a Wednesday. I was getting the "what are your obviously healthy, school-aged children doing home in the middle of the day" look. I was getting the "are those
all her children?" look and the "she's one of
those people" look.
I finally made it to the cutting table after 10 or 15 minutes of waiting and constantly being stared at by the judgmental-sewers. I was sure that they all had noticed the sweat rings developing on my dark shirt. I needed help picking out interfacing. The woman working, a effortlessly hip youth named Elisha, looked at me like I was from Planet Have-Too-Many-Kids-Moron. "I'm new here. I don't know anything. You're going to have to ask my manager, Diane. She's back in Yarn."
ARGH!
My kids were starting to lose it at this point. "Are we almost done?" I was irritated and ready to be done myself. I thought that this entire errand would take 10 or 15 minutes. However, unbeknownst to me, everyone in the metro-Milwaukee area was buying crafties at Jo-Ann Fabrics on this particular Wednesday. Gus bit Isabel out of frustration (how is that even possible?) and the girls started arguing about something stupid, like which fabric was prettier. I think I said BE QUIET! in a mean, quiet voice for the gazillionth time.
I found Diane. She told me which interfacing I needed. I got back into the monsterously long line for the cutting counter, and the sweat started really dripping because of my areobic activity pushing the cart in circles around this place. I asked myself "why is the heat up so friggin' high in this choatic, disorganized craft store????" And then we made eye contact. A skirt-wearing woman got in line behind me.
"I had four children too. They are such a blessing. This is my youngest. The time goes so fast. You really have to treasure these moments."
Grrrr.
Elisha cut my stupid interfacing. I proceeded to the check-out where my children were immediately drawn to the impulse candy section like insects to a bug-zapper. I think that the entire event may have actually transpired in slow-motion like I remember it.
"Geeeettt aaaawaaayy froooomm thaaat stuuuffff!"
"Moooommmm, caaan weee geeet theeeeeseeee?"
[Candy spills all over the floor. Judgemental-sewer rolls eyes and looks on disapprovingly. My armpits gush.]