Her Name Might Be Mud

It was seven o'clock on a recent Sunday morning. I was awakened by my usual alarm -- the flying leap of a determined Princess onto my bladder and then away to the window. She can be put off for  only so long, before one must simply comply for the sake of peace. So I climbed out of bed, fed her, stretched and yawned and wandered into the sunroom where I was greeted by a sight guaranteed to make any knitter's blood run cold.

Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!    That's the red lace wrap!

 

Wut? Yoo make lacees wif dat stuff.

I maked sum, too. I fails to see da problum.

 

 

Sigh.