Clothes

Last night before dinner, we picked up the rest of the clothes from Aiina. Mother dear decided to take Father Dear's car to Glasgow and as luck would have it, we forgot to remove the bags of clothes from the car boot before Father Dear left for work and we had to wait ALL day for him to come back  so we could finally try them on.
Unfortunately, every single one of ten had something terribly wrong with them thanks to the terrible seamstress who can only sew clothes… terribly.
After a heart attack or five, I realised that no- I haven't put on any weight- the seamstress has just sewn the clothes at least two tighter from each side. I felt awful. This is the last thing we need at a time like this.
But what made it all better was Dad's reaction. Never before have I seem him so upset over clothes. His worry and stress over my clothes made my bad feelings disappear and all I could think was of how sweet it was of Dad when he started folding all the clothes and putting them back in their bags with great care, ready to take back to the seamstress. It's little things like this that make you realise that something like badly stitched clothes aren't the end of the world. Even if they are for a wedding.

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