I am ridding you from my stitching. I spent all day fixing the mistakes you brought with you. I apologize for commenting on the floss that made your buddy, Eek, up. It wasn't personal. I know he had no say in the colors he was born of! There was no need to make me pick out an entire word. Not this week at least. Can't we all just get along?
I know my house is inviting, being next to the marsh/swamp/drainage pond thingy. The wetland thingy IS inviting. My house, not so much. After all, we have dogs here. Big dogs. Dogs who are smart, yet have undiscerning palates. Trust me, I've pulled straw out of their mouths and watched them eat a marshmellow covered in dirt. They wouldn't hesitate to eat a frog, even a floss frog. And I don't want to put you in that situation. It pains me.
So I'm asking you, til I'm at least done with this specialty floss project, can you stay away from my house? I've got this fixed, but I can't take many more of these little incidents. Not after the great mis-count of Black Cat. I'll keep the boy-os sated with dirty marshmellows and straw, and we'll be good.