The other day my husband and I traded jobs. He stayed at home with Mr. Tippy Toddler, and I went downtown for some fun and games with the Building Department. I took my Christmas stocking project with me.
A contractor and I were commiserating about how maddening and time-consuming it is to pull permits and deal with bureaucracy. He said he usually sends his "guys" to do it. I told him that my husband is a general contractor and usually sends me, and I have to drag my toddler along, but that day I was so happy to be alone, that I wouldn't let anything bother me. He said he noticed I brought my knitting. I told him that way, I don't feel like I've wasted a bunch time, even if denied the permit. Which I was.
I was knitting on the streetcar on the way home when a man got on through the door near me and shouted belligerently "it says press the button when lit and I pressed it." Oh dear! I intensely knitted, praying "please, please, don't start talking to me, drunk, dis-shelved man."
He immediately sat down near me and barked "knitting or crochet?" I had not made eye contact. Should I pretend I didn't hear? No, don't be judgemental. We had the following conversation"
Me - "Knitting."
Him - "It's an art, you know."
Me - "Thank you. Not everyone feels that way."
Him - "They don't know how hard it is. My mother knitted."
Me - "My grandmother taught me."
Him - "Is that knitting or crochet?"
Luckily we were at my stop.