So, my younger brother, Davy Crockett, and his new bride, Glenda the Good Witch, will be making their annual pilgrimage to see us in about two weeks.
This means I have to finish their wedding scrapbook before they get here, because there's no way I'm shipping it to Kentucky. I've sunk too many hours and dollars into that thing, and I'm sure it will get lost in transit, just to spite me. In order to finish it, I've roped the kids in to help with the roughly 20 or so "family and friends" pages at the back of the book. It's become a family project, and I'm sure Davy will appreciate that (even if the Little Professor glues some of the pictures in slightly crooked).
We've been working on it at Grandmama's house. Grandmama doesn't assemble pages, but she does critique them. She calls this "supervising." I call it "being a pain."
"No, no," she'll say. "Not that paper. Why are you using so many keys and clocks?"
"Because they look nice." - Isn't that the point, with a scrapbook? - "And I like the symbolism."
She also monitors my craft spending. Since we're crafting together, I often take her with me on craft runs. (It isn't my fault that we go through glue dots like they're going out of style.) She spends most of these trips parroting, "you can't buy that!" over and over.
I am an adult woman, and I can so buy that. So there.
She has recruited the Sassy Saint to help her with this. The two of them follow me around the craft store, hanging over my shoulder, ready to remind me I can't bankrupt the Long Suffering Husband by purchasing yet another faux pearl decorative swirl.
I'm of the opinion you can never have too many faux pearls. It's simply not possible. There is nothing in this life that can't be made better with the addition of faux pearls.
I've been intrigued with fairy gardens for some time now. (Mostly meaning that I've been pinning stuff to my Pinterest page.) This last trip to the craft store, they had some tea cup/saucer fairy gardens on display and were advertising an upcoming fairy garden class.
"That is cute," I said. "I want to take that class."
"We don't need to take a class," Grandmama sniffed. "You just need a tea cup and some faux flowers. Maybe a fairy figurine."
I must have perked up, because she gave me the Stern Mother Face. "No. You are not buying any of that."
"Can't I just get a tea cup? Maybe some florist's moss? And some craft foam? And some miniatures? A handful of flowers?"
"No. No. No. No. And no."
Seriously, it's like I'm 14 all over again and she's trying to teach me good spending habits. Guess that lesson didn't take. But it's OK. She can't be with me 24 hours a day and seven days a week.
And I don't need lessons.
(Wallace-Minger, a Weirton resident, is community editor of The Weirton Daily Times, and can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org)