Sock Wars: Day 13
Are you sick of socks yet? If so, trust me on this one -- you're not alone. I'm getting to the point where it's almost painful to even wear socks. The thought of socks makes me cringe. I just want to work on a nice vest. Or a bag. Or even those cute little mini sweaters that Julie is making to hang on her tree. So I promise I'm working as quickly as I can, trying to end the pain and suffering that you and I have had to endure throughout this long socky experience.
But I'm getting there:
The last time I measured, I had 7 inches of foot (which, if I were Dave Barry, I would tell you sounds like a good name for a band). I need just one more little inch until I start doing toe decreases. So believe it or not, faithful blog reader, I am almost done. And when I'm done, I promise to work on something less excruciating.
So I know what you're thinking. I know you're looking at that picture, thinking, Does she not notice that those socks just don't look right? Oh, I've noticed, alright. They look too skinny and too long. I have no clue why, other than the fact that they're ribbed, so they stretch. Yesterday, while I was knitting with the girls, Evelyn proved how much they stretch by pulling them out as wide as they would go, much to my horror. But they shrunk back down to their tiny size again. No harm, no foul. Of course, they're not ribbed lengthwise, too, which makes it look like the recipient-in-law's feet are ginormous, which they're not, really. They're a little bigger than mine, but hey, we're Dutch. We're not all dainty and petite. So sue us.
The dilemma here is trying to package them to make them look decent. Let's face it here. Just lying around, flopping under the Christmas tree, they're not pretty socks. But they look good on, and that's what matters. But, at the same time, I don't want the poor recipient-in-law to open her much-anticipated gift, only to look at me and say, "What were you on when you made these things?" Then again, our goal for the last six Christmases has been to get each other "fun" socks. Ugly socks can be fun, right?
Maybe, if I stuff them and make them look like there are real feet inside the socks, it'll make them look less ridiculous. I'm all about the marketing here, people. I've got to find the right packaging that will make the socks look good. Back when I was in advertising, I had to write all kinds of BS to make all kinds of worthless products seem crucial for human survival. If I could do that, I've got to be able to successfully market a pair of socks...
So...in other news, while Paul did the responsible thing last night and went to give blood, I did something that I was pretty sure would not make me either (a) gag or (b) pass out. I went shopping. In fact, I finished all of my shopping for Paul, and that makes me feel special, so don't ask me how I'm doing on everyone else. And don't, whatever you do, mention socks. At this point in December, I could snap at any time.
Anyway...after finishing shopping for Paul (and only going over budget a little bit), I finished shopping for my girlies. And since my girlies could very well be reading this right now, I won't tell you what I got. Next week is the last Monday before Christmas, so I'll be sure to take pictures of our little knitterly Christmas party. After that, I went home and wrapped Paul's presents and put them under the tree and felt smug for a few minutes before I went back to knitting The Sock...