i'm going to have to start sharing
(Someone outside, in another house, is playing a beautiful lyrical piece on a flute, or something. Another one of those moments you have of living in the city. In a street where you can hear your neighbours breath and talk and yell, and play music, and laugh).
Then, while I was doing something else in the same room (my machine is now in our kitchen), he hopped onto the chair, and stretching his legs to reach the foot presser, he started doing it all on his own.
He did it.
He decided exactly where to start and when to stop the stitches. And then, half way through a line, half way across the 'page' he stopped, lifted up the foot presser, cut the thread. And declared it finished.
So, I suppose I'm going to have to share my sewing machine with him now, hey. Or buy him his own.