An Addiction?
Categories:
yarn
My oldest son, Ted, stopped by the house yesterday afternoon. Wayne had set a heavy box by the basement door, and Ted offered to take it downstairs for him. I noticed he was gone a good ten minutes.
When he returned he came to me and said, “Mom, we need to talk.”
He was so serious I was immediately concerned. “What’s the problem?”
“It’s your yarn, Mom.”
“My yarn?”
“You have a lot of yarn down there.”
“Yes, well . . . it is my yarn room.” Okay, I’ll admit, some of the yarn has bled out into other areas of the furnished basement. I’ve been sorting colors , and there are a few books here and there and more than one pattern scattered about. It has been on myTo-Do List to get down there and clean everything out, but I've been so busy with other things.
“I think we need to do an intervention.”
“An intervention?” I cried. Now really, that was carrying it a tad too far.
“Mom,” Ted said, still serious. “You need a twelve-step group.”
Can’t you see it now? Me, at a large meeting, standing up and admitting to everyone present, “Hello, my name is Debbie, and I buy yarn.”
When he returned he came to me and said, “Mom, we need to talk.”
He was so serious I was immediately concerned. “What’s the problem?”
“It’s your yarn, Mom.”
“My yarn?”
“You have a lot of yarn down there.”
“Yes, well . . . it is my yarn room.” Okay, I’ll admit, some of the yarn has bled out into other areas of the furnished basement. I’ve been sorting colors , and there are a few books here and there and more than one pattern scattered about. It has been on myTo-Do List to get down there and clean everything out, but I've been so busy with other things.
“I think we need to do an intervention.”
“An intervention?” I cried. Now really, that was carrying it a tad too far.
“Mom,” Ted said, still serious. “You need a twelve-step group.”
Can’t you see it now? Me, at a large meeting, standing up and admitting to everyone present, “Hello, my name is Debbie, and I buy yarn.”
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