“WHEN,” demanded my brother-in-law in his usual blunt fashion, “are you going to knit me a pair of socks.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement – in his mind, I owed him socks and I had not yet produced them. Fortunately I had just taken a sip of gin and tonic, or I might have said something along the lines of “when hell freezes over.” But I didn’t have to.
“Knitting socks isn’t as fast as you think,” said Pirate-Husband. “It takes her hours to knit just one, and then she’s got to knit another just like it. Besides, she hasn’t even knit ME a pair of socks yet.”
His brother considered that.
“Go get some of your socks!” Pirate-Husband said to me. “Who DO you knit socks for?” his brother asked at almost the same time.
I shouted back to the kitchen from halfway up the stairs, “For myself! I knit them for MYSELF!” Then I picked up one of the stripy Jaywalkers, the completed Garter Rib sock, and the Pomatomus-in-progress, and brought them back downstairs with me, where I was thoroughly gratified by the reaction I got.
“That is one SERIOUS work of hosiery!” my brother-in-law pronounced, turning the Garter Rib Sock over and over in his hands. “WOW. You made this. That’s AWESOME.” Then his face got a hopeful look on it. “HEY,” he clapped a hand over Pirate-Husband’s shoulder. “Do you remember the STOCKINGS that Aunt Someone made for Cousin Someone Else.” Pirate-Husband nodded, and his brother turned back to me. “You could knit CHRISTMAS stockings for my kids. You don’t have to get them ANY other presents. That would just be too cool. I would LOVE that. THEY would love that. It would be AWESOME.”
I may or may not have agreed to knit stockings for my nieces, but I did agree that hand-knit stockings would be an awesome thing. And if I ever write a book, there will be one character in it who talks JUST LIKE my brother-in-law. He’s so enthusiastic about EVERYTHING. I LOVE that.
P.S. I also love Pirate-Husband for leaping to my defense. He may not knit, but he understands knitters. Pirate-Husband is AWESOME.