Every once in a while, James digs his fat little fingers in our old furniture and wreaks havock. In this case, our poor old plaid armchair- passed down from generations bore the brunt of his destructive little fingers and got picked down to the bare wooden frame (during one sitting of Curious George I might add). In order to repair this, I looked in the garage for some basic supplies- a patch (which is really half of a beaded coin purse), some hollowfill, and a needle and thread, and just like that, within a few minutes, that eyesore of a crater disappeared and something much nicer to look at and touch appeared.
|He has no idea what he's even doing... in his defense, there was already a tiny hole there.|
|However, this chubby hand is no saintly paw.|
|Heart patch sewn on whip-stitch style. Voila!|