I sewed a button on a pair of pants today. This might not sound impressive. And in fact it’s not a new skill, which probably makes it sound even less impressive. But the thing is, I never fix anything. Sadie’s just outgrown a dress that’s been missing a button since Audrey was a baby, and I will very probably pack the dress away without ever replacing the button.

I have needles. I have thread. I often have buttons. I have time; it takes, what, two minutes to sew on a button? But what I usually do is this: I put the clothing that needs a button (or a patch or a seam or, really, anything) in a special “I’ll fix it later” pile.

Occasionally the pile goes home with my mother and she might fix some of the stuff, but usually it just stays put until whoever owns the item in question outgrows it and I can guiltily pack it away.

Right now my pile consists mainly of a down throw blanket that needs mending. I don’t think we’re about to outgrow it.

But this morning, Abigail lost a button off a pair of pants. I was tempted—so tempted!—to tell her I’d deal with them later, but the button was one of those inside ones (the ones that secure the elastic that comes in every pair of kid pants these days, to adjust the fit of the waistband), and I was afraid the elastic would get lost forever in the casing, so… I just did it. I found a needle. I found matching-ish thread. And now her pants are hanging in her closet once more.

I wonder what else I could “just do” as it came up? Would I would get more done that way, instead of leaving things for later, that elusive later that never quite becomes now? Or would I just be overrun by the things that need doing at every moment of every day?

I suspect my existing system (mostly) works best, but seriously? It feels good to have fixed the button.