Like a fool, I waited until the last minute to get my tickets to Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, and so I ended up having to see it at a theater on the east side. (For those of you who don’t know Manhattan, crossing from the west side to the east side or vice versa, while not physically too difficult, is the psychological equivalent of swimming the English Channel naked and bleeding when it’s full of sharks.)
In any event, as I sat knitting on the crosstown bus, a boy of six or seven across the aisle spoke to me. He asked, “What are you knitting?”
Now, I do not ordinarily like to be spoken to when I’m knitting on public transportation (though being spoken about is a different matter entirely–there’s no joy quite like that of hearing people whisper, “What’s he knitting, it’s so complicated, I used to be able to crochet but I would never have the patience to do something like that”) and I also hate children. One would think these two facts in combination should have inspired me to a stony silence, but somehow I didn’t mind.
“A glove,” I answered condescendingly, glad to be able to broaden the child’s horizons.
“I just finished a scarf,” he said, “in fisherman’s rib. Now I’m working on a hat in a cable stitch.”
As soon as I recovered my equilibrium, I responded. What I said was, “That sounds terrific. Good luck.”
What I wanted to say was, “Does your mother know how gay you are?”
thinking about it, these types of signs were also present during my own childhood, for i’d frequently return home from Granny’s clutching some new wool and knitting needles.
and my father used to get a bit worked up.
the most worked up he got was when I bought a Barbie doll with some birthday money. he made me take it back and switch it for some Lego.
bah!
brilliant. it’s like a being a 6th grader whose favorite movie is Steel Magnolias. (sigh, I just loved olympia dukakis, even then)
Thanks for the flashback to a supressed memory. I was ALL ABOUT macramé when I was 8 or 9. Mostly ugly hanging plant holders. :::blush:::
The boyfriend’s mother, just this past Saturday:
“Joshie, I knew I loved you the most when at 4 you cried when I wouldn’t take you to the fabric store with me.”
That’s gorgeous.
Orbicon: I was all about the macrame back then too … the pinnacle of my Southern California childhood.
Bwahahahahahahahahahaha…..sigh it’s always nice for them to start early ya know
Admit it! You know he is better than you! ADMIT IT! Dont hide from it.
That is just the coolest thing. I can’t knit for shit.
don’t be jealous. and don’t rain on his gaie parade.
I just laughed diet coke up through my nose… thanks for the chuckle!
awwwwwww…. he could just be a boy with effeminate tendencies. LOL We really won’t know for sure until he grows up and develops a sex drive.
Hey, I hate kids too!! The kid on the bus sounded cool though. Kinda like my friend’s nephew who loves to swiffer whenever he’s at her house (and oh yeah, he’s 7 but he shoplifted a six pack of nail polish from Walmart last summer because his mum wouldn’t buy it for him).
I tell you… we are everywhere.
“LOL” is so overused these days, that I actually have to type this out… you made me laugh out loud with that post. Thanks! 🙂
Priceless!
What a laugh I had reading this one. My partner came from the computer room and handed the printout of the entry to me as I stood in the kitchen making handmade dipped chocolates and cookies: “Here, you’ll appreciate this,” and I was so humoured that I just had to go read the comments…which evoked further memories of being the oddball child.
I, too, was so into macramé that I am quite sure my extremely conservative parents must have had a clue about the road I was taking. After all, I, too had requested to spend allowance money on a Barbie when I was 7 or 8 and was flatly denied…and then my mother showed up one day with “Skipper” after what I suppose was some incessant nagging over why I couldn’t have Barbie. Of course, “Skipper” would never do for a details princess like myself, and I ended up biting off her hands and feet in protest. What I really wanted was the Barbie head that you could style the hair on…I thought that was the coolest thing, but didn’t dare go there.
BTW, orbicon, I was relentlessly into the macramé – I knotted wall clocks, purses, 7-ft. hanging occasional tables, belts, and more. I was insane with it.
On kids, I have always subscribed to the W.C. Fields theory: I like children if they’re properly cooked.
Anyway, all that to say, thanks for a great trip down memory lane!
I must have missed the knitting boat as a gay-man-in-training. But I did get into ceramics quite a bit. Does that make me a lesbian, or just even more gay?
I was wondering if you could knit me a nice cock cozy for the long winter months? I will need something to keep it warm!