Sewing the seeds of love...
I assume my mom collected labels from frozen vegetables for months to send away for that stupid sleeping bag. I probably begged and begged for it—I was a demanding child, of course. I honestly cannot remember actually getting Sprout—I just remember him always being there, and that, by high school, Sprout had become something more than just a sleeping bag to all of us. Sprout had come to symbolize all that was good in the world: warmth, comfort, happy childhood memories, and fiber.
All of my friends wanted a turn with Sprout. I had to learn to share him, and most of my friends even got at least one night alone with Sprout. Some became repeat customers—crashing on the couch with Sprout weekend after weekend—he became an addiction for them.
No one could resist Sprout. How could you? Some of them tried, but he beckoned with the promise of his warm, soft caress. Under Sprout one could watch a movie, nurse a hangover, play hide and seek from nieces and nephews, or sleep without a care in the world. Sprout got the job done.
But he did his job so well, and for so many people, that eventually Sprout began showing signs of exhaustion. He had been stretched too thin; Sprout was coming apart at the seams.
Scraps had a terrible choice to make: never again be enveloped in Sprout’s charms or rip him to shreds…
It hurt a bit, at first: slicing him open and choosing the best pieces while tossing the rest away like an empty bag of frozen vegetables.
Then Scraps remembered all those who Sprout had touched. She found a way to let Sprout love again…not only through his new role as a square in the quilt, but all over the world. So, Scraps saved every little piece to show the world that Sprout will love again!
Small yellow and green bits of love will soon begin sprouting up all over the world…in the meantime, enjoy watching the process as we turn this charming little sleeping bag into the tackiest, busiest, most original quilt known to man. Or woman. Duh.
Here are some lovers of Sprout:
Spanky Von Barks A Lot.
Ruby, my beloved high school pet.
Andrea and one of her famous cookies. ----->
Reznor.
1 comment:
One of my very favorite memories of the sweet wonder known as Sprout comes from a Glendalian eve not so long ago...
The usual suspects had turned out for a night of movies + treats (note: I would never wipe my snack-sticky hands on Sprout). Out of a field of very worthy friends, it was somehow decided that I would get to lounge with the lil' green guy for my first viewing of Kathy's much-loved Shawn of the Dead.
Sprout's signature softness (and the hot popcorn we were all inhaling) soon sent me into a state of perfect, buttery bliss...in fact, I fell asleep 20 minutes into the movie and awoke at 2AM with a zombie-like zipper mark across my face. I'm no longer one of the undead, but my love for Sprout will never, ever die.
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