Today, when I was on duty, my school uniform was accidentally cut a triangle by the wire on the broom. As soon as I got home from school in the afternoon, I hurriedly turned out the stitches from the drawer and decided to mend the clothes by myself, so my mother wouldn't find out.
I went through the drawer, but I couldn't find the blue line except for a few white and red lines. "What can I do?" I was as anxious as an ant on a hot pot. "If you don't have blue thread, sew it with red thread." I said to myself. So regardless of 37-21, I took out a bunch of red thread, put on the needle, hold the needle in one hand, hold the hole in the clothes in the other hand, and began to sew like my mother. One, two, three The hole was slowly sewn up, just a little concave and convex, not neat enough. "My mother also said that I can't do anything. You see, I can't sew clothes myself!" When I was complacent, "Oh, what a pain!" Accidentally, my hand was pricked and bleeding. Now I can taste the taste of pricking my hand. I put down the needle and thread hurriedly and wiped it with toilet paper. Then find a piece of bandage from the medicine box and wrap it on your hand, and continue to sew.
After half an hour's work, I finally sewed the holes in my clothes. Although it's not as neat and beautiful as mother's sewing, I feel the joy of sewing today.