olden times
I made this. Not the kid, the outfit . . . well, if we're getting technical, both, but I digress.
It's not that I think the dress is terribly stunning - it's not. Yoda picked out the parts herself and I went with it.
It's more that she asked me to make it and I said yes.
I said yes, because I could.
I could because I took home-ec in 7th and 8th grade.
I took home-ec in 7th and 8th grade because I had to.
I had to because in order for me to be considered a productive member of society, my school district thought I should be able to fry an egg, know the difference between a flathead and phillips screwdriver (shop class was also required), be able to sew on a button, hem a pair of pants, know when the milk was rotten, wash a few dishes by hand, know how to turn the oven on and off, clean up after myself and cook a relatively balanced meal.
This was not an elective - it was required. Allllllllll 12 year-olds had to do this. Furthermore, we had to pass it with an acceptable grade. Not that we all have to run around making glittery butterfly dresses, but my God, maybe we could wash an occasional dish, or sew a button on instead of throwing away the whole shirt. I think I am officially old, because I miss the good-old-days, when we actually had to heat up the oven to cook our pizza rolls or take responsibility for returning the VHS tape to Blockbuster.
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