Thought I’d show you a picture of my bow table.

It doesn’t usually look like this.

My silly, silly sister, 172 weeks pregnant, decided that she needed some hairbow headbands for her tiny little bundle of joy, Micah Faith, who is to be born in a matter of days.

*INSTEAD* of letting me *GIVE* her the hairbows, which I’ve been ever-so-happy to do for my friends (can I get a witness), she feels this silly need to come over and work for her hairbows.

So don’t tell her……but I didn’t have anything ‘real’ for her to do tonight, so I had her go through my box of scrap ribbon and spool it all up into nice, neat little spools.

Now, it really was a semi-real job; there were several ribbon segments in there that should NOT have been, but I got lazy and tossed a bunch of stuff in there that really, truly needed to come out and get organized. But all these little spools…..

….really PROBABLY didn’t need to be rolled up quite so neatly.

So she toiled. And I made her her hairbows while she toiled. While we watched Terms of Endearment on my computer monitor.*

(*Which is most definitely *NOT* a PG movie, by the way, in case you were tempted to pop it in your back-seat DVD player for your children to watch. Just don’t. I don’t care if it says PG, it ain’t.)

But back to the subject at hand.

Don’t go calling the Expectant Mother Labor Board on me for making my poor swollen 172-week-pregnant sister come over here and spool up ribbon until 11 pm; it was all her idea to come over here and work. She *INSISTED*, OK?? She *REFUSED* to just let me give her hairbows. I did give her a chair to prop her swollen ankles up on while she toiled away in my sweatshop. See, I’m not that difficult to work for….

But I just had this evil thought. *WHAT IF*……(hee hee)…..I just swiped all this ribbon right back into my scrap ribbon box……? Because I thought about it. For a split second.