Man Vs. Machine

I haven't posted about my sewing machine woes at all, so here is the summarized version:

In February I bought an inexpensive sewing machine off of ebay. I was so excited that I planned a craft night with my mom to figure out all of the ins and outs of my new friend. Almost as soon as we turned it on, we realized something was wrong with the clutch, and my crafty ambitions were halted. We worked on embroidery instead, but I was crushed, and felt as if I'd been had.

I actually had a really good seller, who encouraged me to take it to the department store it had been sold through to get it fixed, and gave me a partial refund to pay for the trouble.

Instead I took it to a local guy who told me it was not worth fixing. He told me that the labor costs would be too high to justify for this machine, and I carried it back to my truck heart broken. I cried over machinery and unmade clothing in my truck, and bitterly decided to give it to Mr. Adventure to take apart and tinker with.

Mr. Adventure likes to take things apart to know how they work. I watched him avidly study the machinery under the case last night and felt a little better. At least someone was enjoying her.

At three this morning my cell phone rang, and Mr. Adventure announced that he had fixed my machine. He even depressed the pedal so that I could hear the needle surging up and down.

Last night he had asked, "If I can fix this, will you love me more?" I said, "I would appreciate you more, which might seem like love..."

What I should have said was "Yes."

When he told me tonight I said, "I am so effing happy right now!" and he replied, "That's all I wanted."