Crafter's Math: Why My Wallet and Son-in-Law Are Confused

Having seemingly accepted that glitter is simply part of his life now, my son-in-law felt reasonably certain he'd won the crafting war.

After all, he'd survived years of surprise glitter sightings. He no longer questioned why one wreath project required three trips to the craft store. And after helping me carry two more boxes out to the craft shed, he felt confident enough to ask a question.

A dangerous question.

Looking around at shelves full of ribbon, signs, mesh, florals, wreath forms, and bins whose contents have become a mystery to us all, he asked:

"Why do you have so many craft supplies just sitting out here?"

I smiled with the patience that comes from motherhood and crafting.

"Those aren't supplies, my son."

"They look like supplies."

"No. Those are future wreaths."

He looked around the shed again.

"All of them?"

"Especially the ribbon."

He picked up a sign.

"How many of these do you need?"

"Need and have are two completely different numbers."

His eyes narrowed.

Then he pointed to six rolls of ribbon.

"Don't you already have this color?"

"Those are different shades."

"They look identical."

"Now you're just being hurtful."

It was at that moment I realized Greg didn't understand Crafter's Math.

So I tried to help holding a roll of ribbon I gently explained;

"A $12 roll of ribbon can be used on four wreaths. That's only $3 per wreath. If one wreath sells, the ribbon was basically free."

He frowned.

"That's not how money works."

Poor Greg.

"Okay," Trying a different tactic. "Let's say my online order is $43, but free shipping starts at $50."

His head tilted.

"If I check out now, I lose $7 worth of free shipping."

His eyes glazed over.

Encouraged by what I assumed was understanding, I continued.

"If I find ribbon I forgot I bought last year, that's free ribbon."

I swear he looked toward the door.

"And when I buy supplies for a wreath I haven't designed yet, that's not shopping."

"What is it?"

"Planning."

He slowly backed away.

I powered on intrenched in my story "Craft supplies aren't purchased based on need. They're purchased based on potential."

At this point he was inching toward the shed door like a man trying not to startle a bear.

"That potential is future me," I explained. "And I believe in future me."

I proudly gestured toward the shelves.

When I turned back around, Greg was gone.

The conversation had ended, but the lesson remained.

My wallet may be confused.

My son-in-law is definitely confused.

But the craft shed understands exactly what I'm doing.