frog pond frog pond
So I started these truly lovely mittens for my mom, in a very classy black and cream fair isle pattern. I was in love, we were happy together, everything was perfect.
(insert ominous music for heightened suspense.)
I got to the hand, and I thought that the palm was looking suspiciously wee. I tried it on, and it was too tight, but I managed to reason this away. Since, I thought to myself, I have giant freakish monster hands, these mittens would be just fine for my mom, who has more normally sized paws. (Justification is always a bad sign) So I kept knitting.
I got almost all the way to the bottom of the thumb, when I had to admit defeat. The mittens were DEFINITELY too small. I don’t know why I thought they would somehow magically get bigger if I kept knitting? In my defence, these were my first mittens. Also, I have no experience with these mittens that are knit in a straight tube. They make me kindof suspicious. Also, colorwork has some kind of magical seductive power that makes you want to keep knitting at all costs. (I cannot believe that I just admitted that.) AND, it’s Christmas knitting, so frogging is a waste of time that cannot be tolerated! Okay, so that’s a lot of excuses >.<
So once this bitter realization hit me, I knew what I had to do, the only sensible, adult, mature course of action. First, I petulantly threw the mitten back into the knitting basket. Then I glared ferociously at it. Then I proceeded to make faces at it. Then I went to sleep.
When I get home from work, the mitten and I are going to have a time of reckoning. I’m going to rip it back to the wrist and switch to big needles. (sigh)