I am known to be a last-minuter. When I tell my teenage stepson that he needs to start things earlier, I am speaking from hard earned experience.
I was very careful to add extra time into the plan when I promised Mr MilkChic that I would finish making his kilt
in time for a wedding at the end of June. When, a few weeks ago, we got an invite to my cousins wedding at the beginning
of June, I still felt pretty confident – it was already pleated and looking good.
Proving that I am still a novice at this parenting thing
, I had allowed time for all known sewing disasters, but had omitted to consider the “toddler factor”.
In fine form, the small one conspired with her molars to cause havoc with my sewing times. She went off her food, making meal times a disaster area, and decided that sleep was optional, ideally timed for short car journeys or aforesaid meal times.
It will come as no surprise to those who know me well that I stayed up til newborn o’clock sewing on the night before the wedding. Probably also no surprise that half an hour before we were due to leave, I decided that it would be best that I finished the waistband in the car and Mr MilkChic changed at the motorway services.
But this time I really excelled myself as it it wasn’t quite ready when we reached the services…
Twenty minutes before we arrived at the venue, I finished sewing and we stopped at a smaller petrol station so Mr MilkChic could change in the toilets. Unfortunately the toilet was occupied and we had no time to waste. If anyone was confused or upset by the spectacle of a man getting changed into full Scottish dress in the car park of a Shell garage in Reading yesterday afternoon, it was my fault. Sorry…
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Here is the kilt in all its glory. Oh. I also shortened the shoulder straps of the small one’s dress in the 15 minute drive from the Shell garage to the wedding. My dress, of course, was held together with safety pins, but I don’t think anyone noticed.