She remembers when this little task was simple, straight forward, and not a game of odds.
Will she get the thread through the teeny tiny, itty bitsy, hole in the slender sliver of metal designed to make her bleed when she pokes it through three layers of denim?
Yes, but not immediately…it will take her seventeen attempts, a string of swearwords that would make her trucker-late-father-in-law proud of her, a rejected offer by her husband to undertake the task, and a few successes that become failures when she excitedly pulls the needle towards herself and dislodges her accomplishment.
Has she ever mentioned her lack of patience?
Oh, she also lost nine out of ten games of pool this afternoon.
