AT THIS POINT WHY NOT
My husband: “Can you make some pasta for our two children while I finish this eighteen-course Mediterranean meal for our ninety-six guests?”
Me: “Yes. Absolutely. I can definitely one hundred per cent do that.”
Also me: <puts water in a pot, turns stove on, places pasta on counter, leaves kitchen forever>.
*
My yarn pile: “Wouldn’t you like to make something out of this cozy nubbly yarn your friend brought home from her travels for you? Isn’t it enticing that this particular yarn is enormous and therefore will amass quite quickly and yield results within a day or two, unlike absolutely anything else you do?”
Me: “Yes, great idea,” <starts frothing> “and how about I make it go even FASTER by doing a VEST? NO ARMS, BABY.”
My yarn pile: “OK, that could work, but maybe… consult a pattern?”
Me: “ITLL BE FINE”
My yarn pile, two days later: “Oh, hello, misshapen-dishcloth-teddy-bear-underwear. I was expecting you. There’s some room for you right over here.”
*
“There comes a point when” was a gateway drug for me into