••• Sunday, February 06, 2005

Get Stubbie
I was pretty busy this weekend, playing ketchup on leftover chores from my flu hiatus. Because the latest phase of this flu bug involves coughing until you piss your pants, I've also been doing a lot of laundry.

What I haven't been doing a lot of is knitting. And here's why. Ladies and Gentleman, meet Stubbie:

Stubbie is what remains of the Blaze sleeve I had to 86 after knitting the entire thing in the wrong size needles. Stubbie is not a hopeless case, but as you can see, he needs considerable rehabilitation. And it's all my fault. And for whatever reason, this weekend, I wasn't ready to face it.

So every time I'd approach my favorite knitting spot, I'd find myself face to cuff with Stubbie. Overcome with guilt and anxiety, I'd cough, partial-piss my pants, grab my chough-chough and amble awkwardly from the room.

By Sunday, my little pissy-pants-coughing-dance had piqued the interest of Bella Boosky.

"Are you done with this, or what?" she asks, hairy tongue in furry cheek (do cats have cheeks?). As I flee the room, holding myself without discretion, I swear I hear cat snickers.

After a cough and a piss and a changing of the undies, I reapproach the scene, where a kinder, gentler Bella asks, "No really, what are you going to do with this?

Well, I'm thinking of stuffing it in a bag, taking it for a drive and dropping it in the river. Wanna come along?

That's not funny, she says.

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