Babysitting. 3:00 pm. 2 kids. 3 year old, asleep in the other room. 10 month old, asleep on my chest.
Knitting. Swiggle Sox.
Cable round. C4F. Drop a stitch. Dammit! Baby squirms. Mustn’t wake him–he’s been fussy all afternoon.
Laboriously fix dropped stitch without aid of crochet hook–it’s in my bag across the room, I’m currently pinned under sleeping infant.
Perform C4F. Wait. That doesn’t look right…my cables are crossing.
Should’ve C4B’d that last cable. Dammit. Now I will have 3 C4Fs in a row.
Deliberately drop those 4 stitches down to the erroneous C4F below.
Another stitch dropped. Splitty yarn splitting. Toddler stirs.
Concentrate on picking up dropped stitch, so I can rework cable and ladder up to where I should be.
Whisper, “Please keep sleeping. Please keep sleeping.”
Then, of course, I hear “WAAAAHHHH!”. Fussy baby is awake, and me with 4 stitches off the needles.
I can only conclude that I must accomplish all the knitting I hope to do for the rest of my life, *before* Jeff and I have kids. I just couldn’t handle the stress.
Now, off to fix the colossal mess which has certainly only grown colossal-er in the intervening time. Wish me luck.