Men mend …

Today, we have all been at home and busy with our own things. Eldest teen is recovering from a week of hard work in sixth form, two shifts at work and a cold. She does this by staying in her pyjamas all day and lying on her bed watching youtube videos. I don’t mind at all, she works too hard in my opinion so it’s good to see her chilled out. Youngest teen has been using mixed media to create a still-life, cycling with Jimmy and writing a descriptive story for English. I have been cleaning, cooking and drooling at the Anthropology website (I am purely thinking of Christmas presents!).  Jimmy has been mending …

He has a pair of selvedge denim Howies jeans that quite frankly he actually loves with a passion. He didn’t wash them for a year and wore them every day (I know, his mother was/is horrified). Then he did wash them like one would wash a baby (with a lot of tenderness and constant checking that the water wasn’t too hot) and wore them for another six months, basically until they fell apart. I mended them twice for him but refused to at the last request because they were surely past it in my humble opinion.

Now, Jimmy is not the sort of man who expects his wife to mend anything (he’s rather lovely) but I was still surprised today to find him in the lounge with a needle and thread and my dressmaking scissors stitching up the crotch. After an hour of sewing, he has now stopped, kissed them and said (out loud) ‘hello friends’.

I’m not sure how long they’ll last but I’m quite proud of him for trying!

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