"Uhhhh . . . the handknits are talking to me?"
"What about me?"
"Ummmm. What about you?"
"I'm all knitted!"
"My buttons are right here!"
"I'm just sitting here in this sad little pile!":
"And so please block me and sew me up?"
"Um, I'm a little busy right now."
"But I used the magic word!"
"Yeah, maybe later."
"I don't believe you."
"You don't -- this is ridiculous. If you must know, I think you are probably for a twin, one who won't be born for months yet. So no one is going to mind if I wait until I'm done knitting your companion, and then put you both together at the same time."
"Well, I'm busy."
"I'm going to pout."
"Every darn trick in the book . . ."
"I might start to cry."
"Just have a little patience."
"Aw, geeze. I'll be done with your companion in a jiffy. It doesn't even have sleeves, so it'll be a real fast knit. Everything's going to be okay!"
"I saw you."
"Please, please, please don't worry! I've already cast on. See?":
"I SAW you."
"What ARE you talk --"
"I SAW YOU!!! I saw you with THIS!!!":
"Uh. . . . Oops?"
This time I have someone else to blame. Grumperina was reminiscing about reminiscing about her first big knitting project, the Prairie Blanket by Oat Couture. And I got to thinking it would probably be a good pattern for that other severely discounted All Seasons Cotton I snatched up with the vague intention of making a baby blanket. (You might correctly surmise that it is raining babies around here.)
But I haven't seen the pattern in any LYS I've visited lately. And if I order the thing, I'll have to wait forever to try it and see if I actually like it.
Or I could experiment, you know, maybe just for an hour, just to see if I can figure out something similar.
Just an hour.
Then I'll stop.
(I can stop any time.)