Punkin Head
Halloween has been a dud holiday for several years now–people tend to frown on adults trick-or-treating with no kids and no trick-or-treaters ever came to our apartment. Don’t even get me started on how pathetic it was, eating all that leftover candy that I bought even though no kids came to our door for the previous 3 years. But this year we have a house. In a nice neighborhood. Where kids live. Although my mom assures me that the thrill of jumping up every time the door bell rings does wear off, I’m excited. Unfortunately, the school I teach at won’t let us wear costumes. Poop. I always like seeing my teachers all dressed up and lookin’ goofy. So, I think I’ll knit myself a pumpkin hat.
Who cares that it’s a baby pattern? Knitting yourself a baby hat isn’t sad at all. Certainly not as sad as eating a two-pound bag of jawbreakers because no kids rang your doorbell. Definitely not as sad as knitting Freya a matching hat. Perspective.
‹ Freya–Goddess of Puppy Love In Which Knitting Darn Near Became a Necessity ›