Guess what I don't like (aside from the fat, naked, hairy guy who keeps walking out of our refrigerator in my dreams).
Knitting. I really don't like knitting.
But guess what I do like.
Knitting with my friends, at a bar, with a giant plate of french fries, a couple slices of chocolate cake, and a long drawn out conversation about boyfriends. That's what I did last night.
I decided to work on a grey wool scarf for James--mostly because it sounds very small and very easy. Think about it--it's got to be super narrow, and short enough so my three-year-old can't inadvertently suspend himself from the ceiling fan. No problem, right?
When you suck at knitting everything is a problem.
I had three false starts, needles were flying all over that dang restaurant, and in all honesty, I came home with three inches of scarf to speak of. My friends on the other hand, each walked out with--I don't know--a super fancy lace sweater with six colors that was big enough to fit a 600-pound woman?
Seriously. They're far more adept than I'll ever be.
Maybe the fries are too distracting. Or maybe I've found the one thing on the planet that I suck at even more that I suck at swimming--and honestly, I never thought I'd see the day.
When we lived in Dallas, I decided to take a private swimming lesson at the YMCA with an instructor named Salvador. Sal started the lesson like this: So Amy, show me what you can do. So I stood there in the shallow end, blew some bubbles with my lips, splashed around with my arms a little bit, and showed Sal how I can easily pick up a full-grown Italian man when I'm in a swimming pool.
Sal was confused.
By the end of the lesson I was wearing a life vest, using a kick board, a floaty leg device, a pool noodle and I still couldn't swim to the other end of the pool all by myself.
Sal was like, "Kick, Amy, kick!"
And I was like, "Go to hell, Sal, go to hell!"
And well, that pretty much sums up my swimming career.
So last night I got home from knitting with my project hidden deeply in the corner of my bag--you know, the same place where I store all of my gum wrappers and parking tickets. Jared, being the sweet and supportive husband that he is anxiously said, "Soooo....let's see what you made!"
"Oh, it's nothing, I replied. I'll show it to you some other time."
"Oh come on, Amy! I really want to see your project," he continued.
"Fine." And I pulled it out of my bag.
Jared looked at my knitting, kind of squinted his eyes and cocked his head to the right. "Well look at that! It's a moon made out of yarn! That's really cool babe!"
Actually, it wasn't a moon made of out yarn at all.
"Well, it's supposed to be a scarf," I said. "For James."
"Oh, yeah! I can see that now! I love how it looks like a monster took a bite out of the corner down there. James is totally into monsters lately, he'll love that!"
And it wasn't a scarf with a monster bite either. It was supposed to be a rectangle. Just a plain old rectangle.
I explained this to Jared and he pulled me into a hug. "You kind of suck at knitting," he said into my ear.
He's right. But the fries were good!