Last evening, while relaxing on the couch with my husband, he asked me the strangest thing…
Marky: Do you have any yarn and needles I can use?
Me: pardon? (what could he possibly be talking about?)
Marky: So I can see if I can still remember how to knit
Me: are you SERIOUSSSSSSS?
Marky: if you can do it… I KNOW I can do it.
When the boys were little, Mark’s mom had shown them all how to knit… probably in an effort to get the three hooligans to sit down and be quiet for a moment or two. Since then, I’m sure he hasn’t had the slightest interest in knitting, or he would have tried again before this point.
After the shock wore off, I hunted out some bright red worsted weight acrylic and an appropriately sized set of needles and cast on 10 stitches… passing them over as ordered. I showed him the basic moves, where to insert the needle, which way to wrap the yarn, and he was off like lightning. (He did NOT like the children’s rhyme I tried to use to help him remember the steps, apparently that was lame)
After about 4 rows in stockinette, his knitting looked like most beginners stitches would – a few extra pick-ups from goodness-knows-where, and increasingly tight stitches as he moved along. With a little encouragement and a few mid row backtracks and repairs he managed to knit back and forth in garter stitch for around 2-3 inches. Overall, he was better at it than I thought he would be. I had guessed that someone who hadn’t touched knitting needles in more than 20 years would need to learn all over again.
Me: Ok… so now you have mastered “Knit” - now we need to learn another stitch… Purl.
Marky: Nah. *plunks the yarn and knit square onto the coffee table and resumes TV watching*
I knew it was too good to be true. Maybe I will bribe him with something later and convince him that a man of his knitting skill simply MUST learn purl. It’s the only decent thing to do.