Remember these socks? Remember how everyone, including me, thought it would be a great idea to put some fuzz at the top and make them Dr. Suess socks? Well, I went to the store, not the LYS, but Michael's AKA Novelty Yarn World, and got two different kinds of eyelash yarn. I found a multicolored eyelash with almost the same colors as the socks, and a different kind of eyelash in white. I envisioned a fluffy embellishment to my sock tops that even the Grinch would smile at. What I got was a complete pain in the rear to knit. I persevered and got the first sock finished though. I set it on the dresser, so that I could look at it everytime I passed by. I decided I hate it. The multicolored yarn is just wrong for my socks. I decided to do it over with only the white yarn. I found the end of the yarns (this should get me some kind of knitting medal as we all know that finding ends in eyelash yarn is truly a feat). I picked them free so that I could quickly unravel the offending tops and redo them in a happier, fluffier way. Well, apparently if you leave eyelash yarn on socks for 24 hours, it forms an unholy union with itself and everything around it. I pulled. Nothing. I tugged. Nothing. I tried teasing it loose with a needle. It laughed at me. I was not to be thwarted by a cheap nylon yarn designed to drive new knitters insane. I cut off the bind off row with scissors. The yarn knew then that I meant business. It is still hanging on by its tacky little eyelashes for dear life. I realized then that the eyelash yarn had formed a symbiotic relationship
with the Easter Egg sock. One of them can no longer survive without the other, so they cling together like the leads in a high school production of Romeo and Juliet. Somehow, I will get this fluff off of my sock, but I don't know what the result will be. I hope I can save the sock. The eyelash yarn? I hope it chokes whoever invented it.
Sometimes something happens in life that just must be documented. It is so important on a global level, so signifigant to all humanity, or just so ridiculous that it must be shared. This falls into that third category (what were you expecting? This is the Internet. Its made for ridiculous). Yesterday I got Caleb some new window clings. He loves window clings. They are fun for him and they keep the birds from crashing into the back door, so I support this love of window clings. I found some yesterday with transparent colors you could stack and make new colors with (color theory clings), a map of the USA complete with labels for all the states, and one with all the planets on them. I figured, if we're going to stick something on the windows, we might as well learn something, and besides, how many birds get to eat with space window clings. Its like a little outerspace vacation with sunflower seeds for them. So, we get home and of course he wants to put them up, so I'm telling him what each of the planets are (he does recognize Earf as he calls it - that's the planet we live on). The following is part of that conversation, undoctored, and recreated here for all blogkind.
Caleb: What's this one?
Me: Its Uranus.
Caleb: Oh, Anus.
Me: No, Uranus.
Caleb: Oh yes, my anus.
Me: (trying unsuccessfully not to start laughing) No baby, the name of the planet is "Uranus."
Caleb: (not understanding why I can't stop laughing) Well, its your anus too.
The best part? He had no idea why it was so funny. Someday he'll understand that the planet's name is an intergalactic punch line.