I had meant to show you pictures of my Honeybee Cardigan in progress, and to explain how, as deeply smitten as I am with it, I've had to put it aside this week, all in the name of motherly love. I found a perfect hat pattern for my kids, and I have been knitting into the late hours every night. I'm not going for Mother or Knitter of the year, I just wanted to make my kids happy, to make them something I knew they would get a kick out of. I wanted to see their eyes light up when I gave them their Roar Dinosaur Hats.
I started with Emilie's, because she's the REAL dinosaur aficionado. She borrows books on dinosaurs at the library, has dinosaur colouring books, and even has a dinosaur poster on her bedroom wall. Yessiree, folks, this was the hat for her.
You might say I was tempting fate... Anyone who knits for a child knows the risks, right? You knit for them, and it's really a gamble. They don't like it, they won't wear it, they think their friends will make fun of them and call them dorks. It's a crap-shoot.
But this morning was magical, I tell you. I gave her her hat, and she loved it! She put it on right away, wore it at the breakfast table, it was glorious, I tell you.
So glorious I even brought my camera with me when I dropped her off at the bus this morning. I just couldn't resist! Motherly love and Knitterly pride had collided into one, glorious moment, and I was going to document it, damnit.
Throughout the day, I found myself thinking about her reaction this morning, and my heart swelled with joy. Pure, simple joy.
Then right before I left work, Phil sent me a text message. As I read it, my blood curdled in my veins. My smile froze and was quickly replaced by a grimace of sheer horror. I never thought two words could have such a profound impact. This is what I read:
R.I.P., Dino Hat. Your time with us was far too short.