Snort, Choke, Gasp, Chortle, Snort

We were at Barnes and Noble the other afternoon for no good reason other than to spend money we hadn't budgeted for. I wanted some new blood in my "healthy recipes" cookbook collection as I was feeling burnt out and bored with all the good stuff I'd been making for my kids to turn their collective noses up at. I needed something new for them to reject. And a coffee wouldn't hurt. So we went to B&N and I found two new Moosewood cookbooks and the twins found some paperbacks and Max bought a mammoth hardcover that has the first four books in the Bionicle series all under one binding. We haven't seen much of him since. Chris looked for a book that Sarah Poppins had recommended and Gaye, my mother-in-law, looked for some new fun fiction. She bought Chris his book and then bought me this one:



Now I admit at first I didn't know what to make of this. As I have a tendency to do, I missed any signs of humor in the cover and it registered as one of those "Xxx who do too much" books that are overwrought on most days and but can still make me cry if I'm PMSing. Nevertheless, the gift of a book is the gift of a book and I said "Thank you" and meant it. Later, when we were home, I picked it up and started to thumb through it. This was followed by me annoying the pants off both Gaye and Chris by bursting out into guffaws once or twice EACH minute and insisting on reading them the HILARIOUS knitting in-jokes. After about ten minutes of this it was clear even to me, the social incompetent, that I'd worn out my welcome. I took the book back with me to the bedroom, as well as the kids, and tried to put them to bed. But the twins weren't remotely tired and Max is well beyond the age of napping. So I lay there and told them to shush every three seconds and kept reading and laughing and reading and laughing. It drove Max nuts so he got up and left. Soon the twins did, too. I fell asleep still giggling.

Here is a thought for today :)

Just think of all those women on the Titanic who said, "No, thank you," to dessert that night. And for what! --Erma Bombeck

When I was frustrated that my baby daughter wouldn't sleep through the night, my mother urged me to be patient. "This could be the last night she gets up, " she told me. "How do you want your last nighttime feeding to be?" I've applied this attitude to my yarn-buying activity. This could be the last yarn I buy. What would I want the last yarn I buy to be? What if tomorrow . . . I can't buy yarn anymore?

I will remember that this attitude, although it increases the quality of yarn that I buy and my willingness to treat myself, can hamper my ability to pay the mortgage.

IF you are a knitter and you need a giggle, GO to www.B&N.com and buy the book (so Stephanie Pearl-McPhee doesn't sue me for copyright infringment). It's the funniest $10 you'll spend this year. If you're so broke you can only barely feed your family and you have to knit Micheal's yarn, then go to her blog. It's free and it's even more irreverent and funny. I want to quit my job and just knit and read her blog (but I can't because Chris, well Godblesshim, but he can't cook).