Crying Over Spilled Coffee

If you heard a wail coming from the Mid-West this morning, that was me. A kid, wrestling another kid on the couch, spilled my coffee. All over my knitting bag. All over my scrap yarn blanket bag. All over my notions pouch. All over the six cakes of yarn I have wound and ready to go. I didn’t handle it well.

Most of it cleaned up. I now know that having a machine washable project bag and notions pouch is important to me. I’m hoping to have a more peaceful morning tomorrow.

16 thoughts on “Crying Over Spilled Coffee

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