I haven’t been knitting as much as I’d like to (or as much as I promised myself way back at the beginning of the year), but throw in a few dreary, blustery days, and suddenly all I want to do is knit and drink tea.
I unearthed a random skein of yarn and cast on for some socks so I could knit a bit while watching TV. My youngest by a technicality (C is the younger twin, born 4 whole minutes after his sister) seemed to take a longer-than-usual glance at them, but then he became absorbed in something else. I didn’t think much of it.
The next morning at breakfast, C said, “You know, I don’t have a pair of socks.”
“Seriously?” I was a little flummoxed. “Because, man, I just did laundry….”
“Not those socks, Mom. The good ones.”
I must have looked completely bewildered (and please understand it was also ridiculously early and I hadn’t had even 3 sips of coffee yet), because he clarified. “You know, the ones you make.”
I was starting to catch on. “So you want me to knit you a pair of socks?”
“Yeah. Everyone else has some, but I don’t.”
Had I really not knit him socks? I swore I had, but he said not. I checked his drawer — no socks. I questioned him, his sister and his older brother — nope, no socks. How was this possible?
I tried to remember what I’d made him — countless hats, sweaters, a Harry Potter scarf in all its 6-foot Gryffindor glory. But I couldn’t pin down when I might have made him socks. Oops.
Then as the tidal wave of Mom Guilt came rolling in, I tried to outrun it by dumping my sock yarn stash out and letting him choose whatever he wanted. His selection process was based on three simple criteria: plain (i.e., no stripes or variegated colors), bright, and here.
I’ve been knitting as fast as I can, but…. Wait. Did you feel that? That was me getting my feet swept out from under me by the Guilt.
In my defense, I’m fairly sure that I stuck to knitting hats and scarves and sweaters for him because I knew that he’d outgrow socks in mere minutes. And he prefers to run around this cold house in the cold weather — you guessed it — barefoot.
Besides, the boy has enormous feet. Seriously.
But he wants a pair of socks made for him by me. What knitter could refuse such a request?
This kid totally has my number.
Have you felt the Mom-Guilt Wave recently? And for any knitters/crafters trying to crank out some handmade holiday presents — how’s it going for you?