She: “Honey?”
He: “Yes, m’love?”
She: “How’d you like a nice Hawaiian shirt?”
He: “Su … uuh, where are you going with this?”
She: “To my sewing room. Where did you think I was going with that? Don’t you like the shirts that I make for you??”
He: “I love them. So do the people who see me wearing them. Helps ease the shock and pain of having to look at me. But …”
She: “What but? Careful how you answer that. What can you be worried about?”
He: “The punchline.”
She: “I will not have any cans of that line of punch in the house!”
He: “That’s a relief. So go ahead. Make me a … Go ahead and make a shirt for me.”
She: “Dang.”
He: “Swing and a miss. He lives for another round.”
She: “Lucky you. OK, one Hawaiian shirt coming right up. Except …”
He: “I told you I was worried about the punchline.”
She: “… I’m out of fabric.”
He: “You are out of fabric?? Since when?”
She: “There’ve been all those other shirts that I’ve been making for you since we’ve been in Hawaiʻi!”
He: “And nothing else you’ve got lining three walls of your sewing room will do?”
She: “It will not. These are shirts for you, letting all the pretty girls know that you’re mine. The material’s gotta be just right!”
He: “You’ve got nothing here that’s good enough, then?”
She: “Right.”
He: “So of all the piles of stuff that you’ve got here, none of it is fabric.”
She: “Uh …”
He: “It’s mehbric.”
She: “Well …”
He: “Amirite? Wouldn’t it have been far more economical if the store had practiced truth in advertising and marketed it to you as mehbric? So you’d have known not to stock up on it?”
She: “And this will keep the store in business how? Besides. It was perfectly good fabric when I bought it!”
He: “So storing fabric turns it into mehbric. How long does this take?”
She: “As long as it takes to find the right project for it.”
He: “Riiiight. Or trade for it? I presume that one sewist’s meh is another one’s fab.”
She: “I’m not having my fabric show up in the shirt of someone else‘s husband!”
He: “OK …”
She: “And shall we talk about how many trumpets you’ve got in your stash …?”
Did you just give me permission to shop? Meet me at the FABric store. Bring money. 🙂