“No, Mommy! Don’t cover up the pretty blue flowers, Mommy.” I was restitching a large rose that had been part of the section torn out when I realized that the floss included with the eBay purchased tablecloth didn’t match the floss that had been used to start it…or the floss called for, when A’s small voice piped up this warning. The day before she had been looking at various stitching projects, trying to pick the strawberry on my Jana P. Kerr sampler and asking if the blue areas on the tablecloth were flowers and been told yes.
My explanation that the blue areas were the pattern to put all of the colors on met with disdain.
My explanation that the blue flowers would likely wash out (who knows with vintage items) leaving nothing behind if I didn’t stitch them, was met with an I know you are going to do it anyway even though I warned you, look as she went back to her CD player.
I told her not to worry, I have another tablecloth that will have blue flowers.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. She didn’t care about the stitched section with it’s blues and pinks and yellows. Probably it is just as beautiful half-stitched, just as she enjoys picking the dead and dried weeds and wildflowers to make bouquets when we go for walks. Just as pretty as spring flowers as far as she’s concerned. Seeing the world through the eyes of my children makes it special and precious in ways I’d never anticipated. Of course it becomes daunting too such as explaining why I’m going to be covering blue flowers with more blue flowers on the next table cloth. Adults do silly things like that.