sulking

Maryann's britches are in time out.
They did not behave themselves.
Maybe it was the bad singers on American Idol (hey, we got rid of cable. I no longer get to adore Dirty Jobs.) Maybe it was because this is Niall's first night in a toddler bed and I had to keep getting up and putting him back in it.

Hmmm... knitting problems these days usually do stem from Niall. I may have something there.

So anyway, I was knitting along, shaping the gusset, enjoying the softness of good wool. Grafted the seam, and started to pick up for the leg.

Maryann wants garter cuffs, so it really doesn't matter how many stitches are on the needles. But I am anal. I have to count. Hmmm... 1 more on this leg than that leg.
Count again. same thing.
One more time. still off.

So I picked out the graft. Looked and looked for the extra in there. What went on? I know I had my markers properly placed. I count that a few times too. But I had to take them off to graft and so I'll never know.

I could have just gone on, but I'd know. It would irritate me. Maybe if these were for me to keep... no I'd still have taken it down. Be honest. I would.

So the britches are in the rocking chair having a time out. They're sitting there quietly, so maybe they'll behave tomorrow. That little ball is composed of the ripped out stitches. 108 for every row. I think I hear it taunting me.