This, my friends, is what I did this evening. I finished my sock. I mean, I finished off my sock. This is what remains of Attempt #3 to knit myself some cute cotton/wool socks out of honest-to-goodness Sockotta sock yarn (avid readers of this blog - if there are any - will note that the yarn color is eerily similar to that of the shoes that changed my life). Lord knows, I am not a knitting perfectionist like a certain famous knitter whose blog I read; so I cannot for the life of me figure out why I keep ripping this poor sock back and re-doing it (the second time, I actually had it Kitchener-ed, and I still ripped it back). But here we go, for the fourth (and hopefully last) time.
Okay, got that off my chest - whew!
In other news, Anna is annoyed at me. I bought her a file box and some folders and she said, "Oh, I don't need that!"
And I said, "Yes, you do - look at all these loose papers lying on the floor of your room and filling your closet."
And she said, "Oh, that's just trash."
And I said, "Oh, never mind then. Just leave them."
Just kidding - apparently, that's what I should have said. Instead I described to her the amazing holding properties of a trash bag and instructed her to use one immediately. Because obviously she had never seen one before. The day sort of went downhill from there.
David is at Boy Scout camp until Saturday. Which means I have 2 and a half more days to purge all the crap from his closet. Wish me luck.