My husband loves me dearly. My husband loves me so much that he bought me a brand spanking new sewing machine that does everything short of smoking my after-sex cigarette.

Nonetheless, I like it. My other sewing machine never ever seemed to get the tension fully corrected even after a tune up and while I have deep sentimental attachment to my old machine, I really really LOVE this new one. I feel the need to stroke it and sigh happy sighs a lot. It's kind of like getting a new puppy and patting it on the head every time you go near it. Only this does pretty pretty things and will not crap on the carpet, nor whine to be let out.

Genny kept asking to sew with it. She was told resoundingly,"NO!" I also bought a cover, to keep her out of my machine. She can learn to sew on my OLD machine -- not mommy's new toy. Who says it's just boys and their toys? I don't need another vibrator for it to qualify as a toy, thanks. (The first two were bought by Mike as massagers...I told him to cut it out)

I'm going to be sewing this week. A. Lot. I'm going to be hunting up all my pretties in the garage. I'm going to be singing happy songs and going on at length about my amazing sewing machine. I know I should have a life, but I don't have one, but hot damn, if I don't have this spiffy astounding sewing machine!

Who needs sex, when there's Husquvarna?