Last week my four-year-old son saw the frog fabric in my stash and admired it. He asked me what I was going to do with it. I told him I'd probably make a quilt out of it someday. "Will you make a quilt for me?" he asked, with the adorable acquisitiveness of the very young.
"Sure," I said, and set to.
A simple pattern, a bunch of fabrics I had hanging around, and a few nights' work later, Charlie has a quilt. And I, mirabile dictu, have disposed of those pesky frogs, some anti-social orange fireflies, and two horrible yards of Tom and Jerry fabric that have been consigned to the backing.