About six months ago, I made this little book for my niece.
Before I made I went out and bought all things polka dot. Polka dot paper and polka dot fabric and polka dot ribbon. I LURVE polka dot.
Turns out I never needed to use the green and white polka dot fabric for my very girly and princessy niece, so it somehow ended up finding its home in my underwear drawer.
Every single time I have opened my drawer in the last six months (Which is surely every single day as I place a great priority on maintaining extremely high standards of personal hygiene. Or not.) I have seen that fabric and thought to myself,
"Oh! Polka dot underwear! I want to wear those today!"
Then been utterly disappointed when I realized it is the fabric.
Isn't that the definition of insanity?