When I first took up knitting, I knit a lot of these fuzzy, multi-yarn scarves. A lot. Like maybe 35 fuzzy scarves.
Just plain garter stitch and a lot of novelty yarn. I didn’t even know how to purl. I refused to pay more than $1.99 for a ball of yarn (Mmmm, acrylic!). I inflicted them on gave them to everyone I knew.
Then I decided to grow up and do some Real Knitting. You know, knitting that did not involve size 35 needles (I did still only buy 99 cent yarn. Let’s not get carried away). I decided to knit a scarf for my husband. I found a Mistake Rib scarf that looked nice and was a simple enough pattern for me to try. I learned to purl and everything. I was happy with how it turned out, and Jim seemed pleased to receive it.
I was so excited about this, a successful project! I immediately began peppering him with questions about what else he wanted me to knit him.
Me: Yarn! Colors! Patterns!
Him: You already knit me a scarf.
Him: I only need one scarf.
Me: Dude, I have invested tens of dollars (heh) into this new hobby and you think you are going to escape with only one scarf?
I mean, really.
I didn’t argue, but secretly devised a Campaign of Conversion.
I took a sock class and began extolling the virtues of the hand-knit sock.
I took him to a football game on one of the coldest days of the year and heroically presented him with a fold-up-brim merino wool hat knit with team colors. I even made a matching one for myself, and I hate football.
I let him in on the mysteries of felting.
I made hats for the kids to look cute in.
Finally, after over a year of waiting, I heard the words I had been waiting for –
“I might like you to knit me some socks”