Little Lamb, Who Made Thee?

                                     

Lambs. They are the image conjured when children think of spring. Lambs are associated with such joy and goodness, they never walk to get to a place--no, they prance.

When was the last time you pranced anywhere? When you got a pat on the back from the boss? Found a $5 bill on the sidewalk? When found you fit into your skinny jeans (or was that more of a holy-mackerel-I-can't-breathe waddle?)?

Well be forewarned, friends, the lamb mentioned within this post, will never prance.

You see, it all began when I made that silly rooster tea towel. I bought a set of tea towels from the craft store, and I felt obligated to decorate the other one. Only then could I have a useless set of towels that are good for no chore, and certainly can't be displayed anywhere due to the aforementioned problems with the rooster's foot.

Flipping through the Embroidery Companion book, which was where I found the original rooster pattern, I happened upon the sweet, smiling face of a lamb. As my heart overflowed, I knew I could redeem the ill-fated tea towel set by stitching this cute, sweet little creature onto the remaining towel. Maybe I could even gather the courage to display them--the beauty and grace of the lamb could overshadow the gimp rooster who's having a bad feather day.

My heart poured into the creation of this lamb, knowing that it must be perfect in order for the foul fowl to be a long forgotten smudge on my masterfully embroidered tea towel set. I fantasized that people would stop by my kitchen cabinets and say, with tears in their eyes, "That lamb is just the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You are so smart to have chosen a tea towel to use as a canvas for this embroidery work of art."

I'll just smile humbly and nod--knowing that me and my lamb (and lame rooster) were just fine.

Let us step back into the world of reality.

This is my lamb.

There is nothing joyful about it. There is no full orchestra playing Stravinsky's Rite of Spring as this lamb "prances" through its meadow. No, instead I envision the lamb singing lead for a German industrial metal band--their number one song being "I Left Mary for the Baa Baa Black Sheep," while stomping through a scrap metal yard in 5 inch leather boots. The horror.

Look at those eyes. The hatred. The menace. How did I create such a monster? Is it jealousy because I created him second? But how could one be envious of the handicapped rooster?

Maybe I should stop embroidering animals for awhile...I'm not sure what awful creation will spring forth next.

-RR