Everyone all over the blogosphere is having these cute conversations with their kiddies (and, yes, Sue, I'm talking to you), and here - well, that sort of thing just doesn't happen. It's all, "Did you eat your carrots? How many? Eat another one." And then they whine. Or, I'll say, "Time to play outside. Go! Now!" and they go. Sometimes I vary it a bit by saying, "Get in the car! Hurry up!" or "Why didn't you go to the bathroom before?" My teenage daughter will occasionally initiate an interpersonal exchange by screaming, "I hate you!", which I guess has the potential to be meaningful; but I never know where to go with that, you know? Maybe I'm just not approaching this conversation thing correctly. Are there certain lines I should use for openers? I mean, aside from, "Sweetie, do you have something cute to say that I could put in my blog?" Just wondering.
I have Knit Night tonight. It's only my second one, and I still feel a little backward showing up with my pathetic attempt at making a sock. It's fiber show-and-tell night, which means....well, you tell me what it means. I don't really know. These people all seem to be yarn aficionados, while I'm still just picking up whatever crap I can get on sale at Michael's. I wouldn't be surprised to see someone show up with a live sheep.
I may be in over my head with this knitting thing. What with people speaking unintelligible KnitSpeak while wearing their hand-knitted Fair Isle sweaters at Knit Night, and knitting bloggers sending me tempting links for pricey yarns in all sorts of pretty colors (for all the world like dirty old men standing near a school yard saying, "Here, little girl, want some candy?"), the fast-paced world of today's knitting seems a far cry from when people were just trying to come up with something to keep themselves warm. It's fascinating, yes; but seductive. I've heard rumors of knitters' children going hungry because of their mothers' yarn addictions. Oh, yeah, at first it's just a skein or two here and there; but before you know it, you find yourself stealing your own kids' lunch money to pay for your habit. Alas, the seamy underside of knitting has never been pretty. (Ouch - an unintended pun, but a pun nevertheless.)
Speaking of neglected children, it's time I stop goofing off at the computer and make sure mine get fed before I go out. It makes my husband a wee bit more amenable to my escaping from the nut house this evening.