The other day I was thinking about all the things I had to do that day: Take N to school, pick up my mother, go to the school for multi-genre fair, grocery shop, put all the food away, pick up N, go to Kumon, get dinner… as I was getting my sweater out of the drawer, immediately I noticed the hole. In. My. Fylingdales. Sweater. WTF! A single stitch was cut/bitten/broken. I held myself together just barely and grabbed another sweater and headed out the door. I did wear the sweater last week to the Memorial Day program at the school but upon returning home I folded it and placed it in the drawer. I check the drawer there is nothing to make a hole. I will have to weave it back somehow, once I know I won’t burst into tears just looking at it.