The story of the two little girls that wanted skirts
"Mum? What are you doing?"
My daughter comes into the kitchen with her friend looking at the piles of fabric on the kitchen table. A regular sight in our house, but interresting and new to her friend.
"I am cutting fabric for dresses and shirts" I answer and put the scissors down. "Do you see anything you like?"
The two girls put their heads together and start pulling out fabrics out of my neatly folded pile, which of course flips over.
"This one mum! We like this one! Pretty, pretty pleeeeease, could you make skirts for us?" My daughter is jumping up and down. Her friend is standing behind her, looking at me with two big blue eyes, and looks as if she's thinking that this has to be to good to be true, can my daughter really ask her mum to make her something, just like that?? Well. Yes. She can do that, and looking at the two girls I agree to make them a skirt each. But, since I have a dress pattern on the table, I decide to make them dresses instead, with a solid black bodice, which almost will make them look like they are wearing shirts AND skirts. Twice as good, right?? I cut the fabric and put it to the side.
The next day they are playing again. I usually don't sew when the kids are awake, since that pretty much leaves them free space for mischeif. But, since the two girls are playing and seems content with their game I decide to sneak away for a few minutes and start to sew the dresses. It's not long until they arrive in my sewing room.
"What are you doing?" My daughter is looking over my shoulder, while her friend is curiously looking over my shoulder at the noisy serger.
"I am sewing some thing…." I answer without looking up.
"Are you done with our skirts yet?" daughter starts pulling out pieces of garments trying to find the fabric, and I realize that I will probably have to use a fair amount of time folding and sorting out the pieces later…
"No, not yet honey."
"Oooh, it's taking foreeeeeeever, can't you please hurry up?" I realize that I probably won't be able to sew anything more today, so I shake my head and take the two girls down to have a cinnamon roll and a glass of juice.
This scene is repeating itself during the following weeks. I have sewn the dresses, but need to order extra foldover elastics, since I don't have any black left, so they end up in the "UFO-pile", and every time the two friends are playing in our house they are asking for their skirts. Finally the foldover elastics arrives and I am able to finish them off.
The two girls are playing again, and I sneak away to sew the last seams on the dresses, bringing them down. I feel pretty pleased with myself and I really look forward to see the faces on the two girls when they get matching outfits.
"Oh nooooo! Muuuuuum! These are not skirts! It's dresses! We asked for skirts!" My daughter looks angry and stares at me like I've ruined her life. Her friend is standing behind her and looks like she's afraid that I would take the dresses back. I try to explain that I thought it would be fun if they had matching dresses, which would make them look even more alike, and somehow they settle with that and quickly undress themselves and pull the dresses over their heads, walking off hand-in-hand, very pleased with themselves.