How not to knit Mary Janes – a step by step process.
- Go here and admire the cuteness that are these slippers. Write the pattern down on the back of a shopping list. Fail to write down the yarn suggested, the needle size, or the gauge.
- On the way out the door, grab your favorite needles (you’re *almost positive* they are the size called for), your hot-pink yarn (this is worsted… isn’t it?), and your “pattern”.
- Knit knit knit. Ignore your four-year-old when she says “Mommy? That doesn’t look like a slipper. That looks like a bag.” Knit while your husband drives through the beautiful Tuscan countryside. Knit while you watch your kids play at the park. Knit while you watch Sweeney Todd on the laptop (when that woman said “Don’t I know you?” I GASPED so suddenly and so hard that I started coughing and dropped four stitches before I got it under control.)
- Ignore how…. large it seems to be coming out. Think to yourself “When I’m done with all the decreases, it’ll look like a slipper. It looks big now, but I still have 3 more rounds of decreases… I’m sure it’ll be fine….”
- Bind off. Hand it to previously-mentioned four year old. It makes a charming hat.
Yeah, yeah. Swatches. I get it.
Surely she’s not ROLLING HER EYES at me? There must have just been something interesting up there. Hmph.
The really frustrating part is that I actually knit both bottoms before picking up the stitches for the top of this one. So not only do I have one HUGE slipper, I also have half of another one. I guess the only decision left to make is do I rip back (Again. This yarn may be cursed. ), or do I go ahead and knit the second one. Then Jonas can have a pink hat, too, and I won’t have to listen to them fight over my latest knitting disaster. (Yeah – the same kids who wouldn’t wear the fabulous hats I made them this winter are both DESPERATE to wear the giant slipper. Terrorists.)
I’m filing this one under “Whoops!”