While you’ve been engrossed in the honorable duty of collating afghan squares, I’ve had an embarrassing time of it with my Koigu Alligator Wrap. Things were going too smoothly; maybe I was taking things for granted.
It was all because of this shameless ball of Koigu. In the immortal words of Tammy Wynette, I was almost persuaded. I was tired; this project was becoming too boring even . . . for . . . me.
I don’t know what got into me. I had planned for this wrap to be in five shades of Koigu, five simple plain solids. In the course of buying this yarn in Omaha (remember Omaha?), I also bought a few skeins of Koigu Painter’s Palette Pure Merino, aka that multicolor kind of Koigu. Well, you know how it is when you’re halfway through a project and yearn for a little adventure? You know how it is when you’re married for 14 years and–ANYway . . .
So I did the unthinkable. I rolled a skein of multicolor Koigu, knowing all the while that it was a bad idea. I knew that the navy blue would be terrible. I knew I was only wishing that the Koiguness of the Koigu would somehow make it all right. I started knitting. I did eight rows, a whole skein, before I realized just how very wrong I was. Standing in the doorway of the Angel Hair Yarn Company, in the flat broad light of day, I saw my folly for what it was.
So I had no choice: on my front steps, watching my children bounce themselves queasy in the Spiderman space bounce that we rented for Clif’s fifth birthday party, I ripped it out, all 3,200 stitches of sleazy infidelity.
After this tumultuous weekend, here’s where we stand:
I feel so cheap. We’re in counseling now. All I can hope is that we move on from here and forget the whole humiliating episode.