This is a post, which, upon reading, my dad would say, "See, I told you so." If my dad reads my blog. And come to think of it, I don't know that I've ever heard him say those exact words. Anyhow.
When I was growing up, my dad got a used sewing machine which, though not "mine", was mine to use. Every time I sewed with it, my dad would ask if I had oiled it. I don't really know why, but I had a particular aversion to oiling the machine (three measly drops of oil! It's silly what teenagers can be rebellious over!) So every time I used that machine, I could have pulled out the oil and oiled it and then I bet my dad would have stopped asking me if I had oiled it. But noooo...I was sneaky and would sew in my room and try to get around him asking me that question. But he had a sixth sense of when I was using that machine and would always pop around to ask that dreaded question!
I was thinking about this today because my machine was making all kinds of noises while I was sewing. I pulled out my machine oil, put a few drops here and there and wouldn't you know? it almost sounded like it was purring at me.
Maybe my dad was right after all!
6 hours ago