The following conversation took place in my house recently,
between myself and my very observant son.
Son: I noticed you've been knitting lately.
Me: (surpressing mild shock) Oh?
Son: I was wondering if you'd knit me a sweater.
Me: (aghast) What? Really?
Son: Yeah. I've always wanted a hand knit sweater.
Me: (squirming) But, I already knit you a sweater.
Son: Um yeah, but I was still in the womb at the time. I've grown a little bit since then.
Me: (adamant) Still counts.
Son: Come on, Mom. You're a really good knitter.
Me: (on guard now) Sweaters are really hard, and take a loooong time.
Son: But you knit a whole afghan in just a couple of months.. How hard could a sweater be compared to that?
Me: (trying to dodge a bullet here) But, a sweater is more than just a big rectangle. A sweater has to FIT.
Son: I'm sure it will come out just as nice as the afghan did.
Me: Did you take a close look at that afghan? Besides, afghans stay at home. Sweaters are worn in PUBLIC.
Son: I promise I'll wear it, no matter how it turns out.
Me: (trying another tactic) I don't really know why you want a hand knit sweater anyway. You have plenty of sweatshirts, turtlenecks and polar fleece tops to keep you warm.
Son: Because having someone knit you a sweater makes you feel really special, and wearing it is like wearing a hug.
Me: What color would you like?