Chipping along.
Slice of life, from yesterday:
me: "You know that red yarn[1] I have? I was thinking of making this."
John: "You don't have the right kind of needles."
me: "I don't?" (I do!)
John: "And the colour's wrong."
(I am blinking at this point, because he does not knit but he understands knitting and that colour is not defined by pattern.[2])
"I mean, those bits?" (He points at the bottom of the page.) "The tentacles clearly have blue. Red yarn. Wrong colour."
me: (stare)
(blink)
(assemble this comment with "wrong needles" and realize that he is on about the tattoo. And he is now failing to keep a straight face.)
me: "I love you very much, dear."
Snarkbeast. But my snarkbeast.
---
[1] The colour is called "Don't Wear This On Star Trek."
[2] Suggested by, occasionally, sure! That is different.
(This post has been crossposted from DreamWidth)
me: "You know that red yarn[1] I have? I was thinking of making this."
John: "You don't have the right kind of needles."
me: "I don't?" (I do!)
John: "And the colour's wrong."
(I am blinking at this point, because he does not knit but he understands knitting and that colour is not defined by pattern.[2])
"I mean, those bits?" (He points at the bottom of the page.) "The tentacles clearly have blue. Red yarn. Wrong colour."
me: (stare)
(blink)
(assemble this comment with "wrong needles" and realize that he is on about the tattoo. And he is now failing to keep a straight face.)
me: "I love you very much, dear."
Snarkbeast. But my snarkbeast.
---
[1] The colour is called "Don't Wear This On Star Trek."
[2] Suggested by, occasionally, sure! That is different.
(This post has been crossposted from DreamWidth)