Distressed

I have a niece who reads Pinterest like it’s the lost book of the Harry Potter series.

I’ve seen Pinterest. It’s definitely Science Fiction.

Without the Science part.

“Look at all the things you can do,” she gushes.

I can’t paint, glue, or staple without written permission from my insurance company. I have to get two estimates if a project involves scissors and have an emergency crew standing by in case of glitter.  I once sewed a banner to my leg, and I’ve glued things together that should never have been bonded.

Just call me Craft Queen.

I have a No Pinterest clause in my policy.  You know that insurance company that says everybody is under their umbrella?

I have to stand in the rain.

My niece put together a special box for me for Girls Craft Night.

It holds a pack of washable markers and an apron. I have a glue gun, but no ammo.

I'm the Barney Fife of the Craft World.

So when I wanted to paint my new desk and sand it to look old, everyone who knew me was distressed.

Except my niece.

She told me exactly what to do.

The Captain is going to do it for me.  And I will assist.

So nobody will be distressed.

 

Except my new old desk.

And the insurance company.