My Fingers Hurt...

In case you haven't heard, I am now a seamstress for the masses.
A certain aforementioned brother-in-law, known for his zealous teasing tendencies, stopped by my office to drop off a bag of pants that needed hemming.

"Take off a couple inches or so.", he instructed.
"Uh... How much exactly then?...", I questioned concernedly.
"Well, they're 36 and need to be 32. So, four.", he responded.
"Is that how men's pant measurements work?", I replied.
"I dunno.", he shrugged and then proceeded to loudly embarrass me in front of my coworkers.

So this should be interesting. Apparently, he trusts me wholeheartedly. Let's hope that doesn't come back to bite him.

But the real kicker is when he announced that I had 'volunteered' for the job. Not quite how I remember it... In fact, I don't think I've ever volunteered to be anyone's personal slave in my life.

It's just... happened. Over and over again.

Perhaps my favorite stories, involving sewing and servitude, are as follows.

Story #1: My eldest sister, Jenny, frequently requisitions my services for sewing projects. From bedroom drapes to ill-fitting swimwear to baptismal dresses. But the project that most stands out in my mind was when she commissioned I 'help her' create a shower curtain for her father-in-law's new camping trailer.

She provided me the material & dimensions and set me to work. Before long, I delivered the (perfectly, I might add) finished product. Jokingly, she mentioned that her in-law would love her forever for helping him with this small task.

Thinking no more of it, I went on my way. It wasn't until several weeks later that I discovered the truth. Naturally, her father-in-law was grateful. Grateful to HER. The little turkey had taken all of the credit. I'm sure my name hadn't even come up over the course of their pleasantries. Throw me under the bus why don't cha...

Story #2: 'Someone' (who prefers to remain unnamed) apparently learned from story #1 that dishonesty pays off. Because for a subsequent English project, they pawned off two princess dresses and cloaks, made for my nieces, that I had lovingly paid for and slaved over for hours on end as her own work.

And they got an A. AN A.
From my blood, sweat and tears!

Ah... the humanity!

So it all goes to show, Corinner-Elly has been used ill. Very ill.
But I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment in that way. I just can't say 'no'.

Let alone HAIL no.