So I have a crazy dog. Not my fault. Not his fault. It's just that he's never met a couch cushion he didn't want to destroy.

This means two cushions with broken zippers are waiting for me to be able to afford to get them fixed.

But isn't that what's it all about? The idea that I'm not a finished product? And after all, if the internet can teach people new languages and if it can teach them to make bombs, can't it teach me to fix a zipper?

Ten minutes, give or take, after thinking that, I had the cushions back on the couch. Zippers are fixed. I've learned it was never too late to learn things I didn't think I would ever know.

And the dog is happy, because now he gets to destroy the zippers again.

(And in case you have two cushions with broken zippers in your basement, here's the link. I used Method 2, with the scissors).