Sunday, December 14, 2008
faux pas
I can't sew. Preschools in Japan require an unbelievable number of little bags that should, if possible, be hand sewn by mom. Seriously. Mina has: a gear bag, a bag for indoor shoes, a bag for outdoor shoes, a bag for her PE clothes, a bag for her lunch box, a bag for her cup. Okay, so that is only six little bags, but it seems like a lot when you don't have a clue as to how to make them. I was in a panic about the bags Sam would be needing before he had even been accepted to the school. Every year the moms organize a bazaar at the preschool and sell all of these little bags. Different moms make them and all the proceeds go to UNICEF.
I put Sam in daycare, took the early train and was one of the first in line to enter the bazaar. My mission: to purchase a gear bag with a boy's design. The gear bags go quickly and I didn't even know if there would be one designed for boys available; I'd be happy with something neutral. I made a beeline for the table where the precious navy rectangles were laid out. There were two boyish designs! One, I loved. It had cross stitched red double decker buses all the way around, the design was simple, but it cost about $65.00. Ouch! The other had a helicopter, a quad, a boat and a bicycle sewn on by machine. They looked like patches. The lining didn't match and the back had a line of random ribbon with anchors sewn across it. I didn't really like it, but it was $45.00 and I figured Sam would prefer it. In spite of my fears of jinxing Sam chances by purchasing his gear bag before he had even had his interview, I bought the bag. I wasn't really happy with it, but it was better than anything I could make.
Fast forward, two months later. We are riding home on the train. Mina's friend's mom, making conversation, asks me if I have all of Sam's bags ready. I tell her that I bought a bag at the bazaar, but don't really like the design. She then proceeds to tell me that she made a boy's design gear bag for the bazaar, but she didn't see it on sale, maybe one of the bazaar committee members bought it. She worked so hard on it, it had four different vehicles on it, she was really happy with the way it turned out. Gulp. I glance down at her daughter's gear bag. It has those machine sewn, patch type designs on it. Brenda, you idiot! You can't go around telling the mothers you don't like something you bought at the bazaar - THE OTHER MOTHERS MAKE THE STUFF FOR THE BAZAAR!!!! AAAAARRRRGGHHHH! I am 100 percent certain that the bag I bought for Sam is the bag that was made by Mina's friend's mom. Now he can't use it. Now the second school bazaar, where they had really cute boy designs for a change that I didn't buy because I already had a bag I didn't like and didn't want to waste it or any more money, has come and gone. I will have one more chance to buy a gear bag. Sam may end up with flowers or kittens or ballerinas on his gear bag. The bag I bought didn't jinx Sam's entrance in to the school, but it is certainly cursed! I will donate the dreadful thing to the school bazaar next year. UNICEF loves me.
I put Sam in daycare, took the early train and was one of the first in line to enter the bazaar. My mission: to purchase a gear bag with a boy's design. The gear bags go quickly and I didn't even know if there would be one designed for boys available; I'd be happy with something neutral. I made a beeline for the table where the precious navy rectangles were laid out. There were two boyish designs! One, I loved. It had cross stitched red double decker buses all the way around, the design was simple, but it cost about $65.00. Ouch! The other had a helicopter, a quad, a boat and a bicycle sewn on by machine. They looked like patches. The lining didn't match and the back had a line of random ribbon with anchors sewn across it. I didn't really like it, but it was $45.00 and I figured Sam would prefer it. In spite of my fears of jinxing Sam chances by purchasing his gear bag before he had even had his interview, I bought the bag. I wasn't really happy with it, but it was better than anything I could make.
Fast forward, two months later. We are riding home on the train. Mina's friend's mom, making conversation, asks me if I have all of Sam's bags ready. I tell her that I bought a bag at the bazaar, but don't really like the design. She then proceeds to tell me that she made a boy's design gear bag for the bazaar, but she didn't see it on sale, maybe one of the bazaar committee members bought it. She worked so hard on it, it had four different vehicles on it, she was really happy with the way it turned out. Gulp. I glance down at her daughter's gear bag. It has those machine sewn, patch type designs on it. Brenda, you idiot! You can't go around telling the mothers you don't like something you bought at the bazaar - THE OTHER MOTHERS MAKE THE STUFF FOR THE BAZAAR!!!! AAAAARRRRGGHHHH! I am 100 percent certain that the bag I bought for Sam is the bag that was made by Mina's friend's mom. Now he can't use it. Now the second school bazaar, where they had really cute boy designs for a change that I didn't buy because I already had a bag I didn't like and didn't want to waste it or any more money, has come and gone. I will have one more chance to buy a gear bag. Sam may end up with flowers or kittens or ballerinas on his gear bag. The bag I bought didn't jinx Sam's entrance in to the school, but it is certainly cursed! I will donate the dreadful thing to the school bazaar next year. UNICEF loves me.
