It’s already time for our fifteenth weekly segment of When Life Hands You Limes…
“Do you have anything you need to get when you’re here?” Abbie asked as she gathered up our trash and threw it away.
“No, I’m just along for the ride.” I stood up and swung my purse over my shoulder, then leaned against the table while taking a few deep breaths. For some reason I was feeling light-headed, not a cool feeling. I’d always wondered what it would be like to faint, not fun at all, I decided.
“You ok?” Julia reached out and touched my arm. “You don’t look too good, Madalyn.”
“I’m fine.” Forcing a bright smile to my face, I nodded toward the store Abbie was most likely wanting to shop at. “Shall we go?”
“If you say so.” Julia didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue any more, either.
“I was wanting to find some fabric for curtains for my little sister’s birthday,” Abbie told us as we headed toward Hobby Lobby. Abbie is all into sewing and crafts and that kind of good stuff. Her style is somewhat vintage and so she makes a lot of her own clothes.
Julia smacked her gum, “Jen or Tessa’s birthday?”
“She’s one of the youngest ones, right?” I tried to picture her in my mind. Abbie has a whole bundle of younger sisters and I can never keep track of them. They all look alike and as much as I hate it, I’m always calling them the wrong names.
“Yeah, she’s turning six.” We’d reached the fabric section by now, and Abbie began flipping through the fabric the way most teenage girls flip through magazines.
“What about this?” I pulled a bolt of exotic looking fabric off the shelf and held it out to Abbie.
“Um, she’s slightly more into pinks and purples, butterflies and hearts, that kind of thing.”
“Oh.” It was a nice way of Abbie telling me that I had absolutely no style when it came to deciding what to get for a six year old girl and she was right. That’s kinda what comes along with being the youngest in my family and having no nieces or nephews (and no hope of getting any in the near future, either). I like helping out with the kid’s classes at church, but that still doesn’t give me enough experience, I guess.
Julia was off looking at the western decor and I thought about joining her, then figured watching the emotions displayed across Abbie’s face was too entertaining. You can read everything she’s thinking on her face. Poor girl, I would hate that. I could tell when she finally found the right fabric, even though I couldn’t see the material itself. The satisfied, happy and smug look taking over her features gave her away.
“Now this is perfect.” Abbie held it up for me, and sure enough, it was the kind of thing I’d liked at the age of six.
“How many yards are you going to get?” I felt quite accomplished asking that question. Before I started hanging out with Abbie I didn’t even know what kind of units they measured fabric in. Yeah, it was bad. All my creativity goes into music.
I was too busy congratulating myself on coming up with such a sophisticated question that I missed her answer. Rats.