I've been saying for a while now how much my daughter despises what I make for her. I think it's become kind of a joke, and frankly, I'm not sure anyone took me all that seriously. I would lament at knit night...well, not so much lament as just state the fact...that I can't get within two feet of her with a garment that I've toiled over long and hard. Example; I knit her a cute little cropped ballet bolero for her birthday which she refused to put on, even for a photo. Believe me, I begged, I pleaded, I bribed. No dice. I was relating this story to the other moms who came to little A's birthday party this past March with their little ones and once I was out of the room, they tried their hand at getting her into it. As I was fussing over the cake, I heard a wail come from the living room. I return to investigate, only to find three sheepish looking grown women who are giggling and admit to me they tried to put the sweater on her themselves.
One of the theories proposed for her strong opposition at my knitting group when discussion of this has come up is that I ruined her by bringing her home from the hospital in cashmere. I set the bar too high. I keep trying though.
I mistakenly thought that smooshy bubble gum pink knee socks would win her over. As you can plainly see, I was sorely mistaken. If looks could kill, etc. etc.
I have to admit, this breaks my heart a little bit. And it doesn't stop with things I've knit for her. She's actually yelled at me to take things off that I've knit for myself. I was proudly parading my most recent FO, the shawl from the previous post and she stood in the middle of the hallway, little pointer finger firmly extended and barked, 'No Mommy. You take that off.'
Did I mention she's a bit of a bossy pants? Last night at dinner she's eating her spaghetti and had eaten up all of her fresh grated parm cheese. She turns to me, brow furrowed, hands on hips and demands, in no uncertain terms, 'I want more cheese.' Oh yeah? Well, I want a million dollars. Lets see how likely either of us is to get what we want.
I shouldn't say that no one here likes my hand knits. My husband has worn the hat I've made him a few times, goes straight for the hand knit socks when he's feeling sick (he says they make him feel better) and did admire the felted slippers, but found they didn't fit very well and have since been abandoned. And I bet if Hank weren't a walking sweater himself, he would gladly and proudly wear anything I made for him. That's the story I'm telling myself at least.
Anyhow, back to the pink socks. So inspired to finish the second one at this point. I've asked her if she would help me out with modelling some recent FO's. We'll see how that photo shoot turns out.
Until later...
