On Valentine's Day morning, Louise finally got the robe I was planning to sew for her for Christmas. Just a few months late, she didn't seem to mind. Two years ago I sewed the same pattern (Mc Call's 4283) for the boys for Christmas. They still fit, albeit a bit shorter.
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After Louise tried on her new robe (which was missing a trim piece at the photo shoot--eek!), she insisted that her brothers put on their robes. I went to the closet to get out Ron's robe that I sewed for him when we were first dating and the kids were thrilled to see that he had a very similar handmade model to theirs.
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I was wearing my favorite of my (ahem, five) robes and realized that it was time to either toss it to the rag pile or do something about the right armpit that was looking like a bomb went off in it. The beauty is pink and made out of this amazingly thick and heavy terry cloth. I was sixteen when I got it for Christmas from my parents and that makes it, well, embarrassingly old for a robe. I've repaired both of the armpits several times and was feeling like if I tried to fix it one more time, I would have ruined the sad thing. Fortunately my parents came over on Sunday night and I gave my mom a little wink wink and passed the poor robe off to her. Aren't moms the best at clothing repairs? Don't moms always come to the rescue when we need them?
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Do you have a story about when your mom came to your rescue? Do share!
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