Once, in the throes of knitting agony, I summoned every ounce of courage I could muster, and asked for help. And you? You were there; you came through for me. And I was so grateful, I cried for days and tattooed each and every one of your names on my neck. And then, in the honored tradition of dysfunctional families everywhere, we never spoke of it again.
I hereby reveal to you . . . Sizzle!
(I actually finished it before we went to Hawaii. Like, four o’clock in the morning, on the day we left.)
In future, I will put in a few more short rows. Not that the fabric-stretching-perilously-to-cover-the-enormous-boobs look doesn’t work for me, but I’d like to maybe be able to wear my tops to work, too.