I have finally recovered from Hurricane Alexis, so let me just tell you about our trip to Joanne's. We headed there for some really exciting yarn so that I could continue working on Alexis' sweater. I wanted to evolve into one of those really cool knitting people that has multiple projects going on, so I also needed some yarn for a new blanket.

Buying yarn for a blanket is, of course, no small undertaking. There was much staring and pondering, perusing and debating to be done before making a decision. In order to buy myself some time for this major life decision, I started asking Alexis to find something yellow, something blue, something red, etc. It turns out she's not color blind so we've been practicing colors. It was a genius plan that was proceeding quite nicely. Until the Interruption.

The Interruption was a little boy of about eight or nine years of age. While I fondled some lovely blue/purple yarn, Alexis was hunting for yellow. The Interruption piped in, "I can find something yellow!" Because I'm nice, I responded to him with a friendly, "That's great! But you're not the one I need to try to keep busy while I shop. Thank you, anyway!" Then the little bugger proceeded to start running all over, grabbing yellow yarn and handing it to Alexis. Undeterred, I helped her return all of the skeins of yarn and went back to fondle some red yarn. Back came the Interruption. Lather, rinse, repeat (this time with purple). All the while, Out Loud Me was being all friendly and nice. Silent Me was trying to figure out where the kid's Mom was and wondering why I had been promoted to Store Babysitter.

The Interruption's Mom finally appeared about three colors later, and he quickly lost interest in us. I wiped the sweat from my brow and resumed trying to make my major life decision. All the while, I was subjected to a loud conversation between the Interruption and his previously absent Mom. It seemed the Interruption was in yarnland because he wanted to knit a scarf. I'll admit, this seemed a bit odd to me. I don't think I've ever known a little boy that wanted to partake in an activity that has traditionally been considered an old lady's hobby (And, yes, that does make me an old lady. What of it?). But hey, I'm all for a little blurring of gender roles so I was pleased to hear the Mom tell him to go ahead and pick out some yarn. When he said he wanted something glittery, I successfully forced my little eyes to resist the urge to do roly poly actions. Hey, if the kid likes shiny, glittery things, then by all means, let the kid knit a shiny, glittery scarf!

But then the Mom proceeded to tell the Interruption, and I quote, "Knitting is an excellent way to develop your manual dexterity. That will help you" blah, blah, blah, blah, blappity, blah lots of big words for things that 8-year olds don't much care about. What the heck? Since when does a kid learn to do something because it's good for developing manual dexterity? Why can't the kid learn to knit JUST BECAUSE HE WANTS TO?