Martin finally revealed what all those fabric scraps were for—he wanted a pouch.

Not just any pouch, mind you. It had to be soft. It had to be cozy. And most importantly, it had to close. (He wouldn’t say why. Just gave me a serious look and said, “It needs to be perfect.”) So, into the workshop we went.

We laid out every last scrap—tiny triangles, frayed ribbons, and mystery fabrics that might’ve once been a sock. Once we were sure there was enough, the ironing began. Some pieces were so wrinkled that we ended up with more fabric than we thought—apparently smooshed wrinkles are sneaky like that.

After ironing, I cut the scraps into equal-length strips and stitched them together. I cheated a little and folded the patchwork in half before sewing to save time (and avoid fighting with a fourth seam). Martin insisted the pouch be lined so we found a soft green fabric to line the pouch.  For the drawstring? Martin found a string from one of Jeff’s old pairs of shorts—perfectly soft, already broken in, and exactly the right dragon-approved color.

I still have no idea what Martin plans to do with this pouch. He did climb in it… “Just to see”, he said   When I ask him what he plans are with his new pouch, he just pats it with a smug little nod and says, “You’ll see.”

Which is both exciting… and mildly concerning.