Back in the days when Hank knew his way around a sailboat (truthfully, there were probably three) he dutifully practiced his knots. Square knots, half-hitches, bowlines, cleat hitches, sheet bends, figure 8s, rolling hitches…you know da kine. The Ashley Book of Knots took up some real estate on his bedside table and he took to crossing his eyes just a bit more than usual.
Suffice to say that Hank knew his way around a knot or two. So when one of his dearest friends was due to have a baby, he thought, Why knot? I’m going to learn to knit. It’s just making a bunch of knots using sticks: how hard can it be? Hank picked up some knitting needles, found some impossibly soft yarn made from the hair of angels and puffy, fluffy white clouds, and set to work.
How hard can it be? Well. It isn’t. It is knot hard. But after the 1,000th knot, Hank’s attention wandered somewhat. And this, dear friends is the result:
Sorry to subject you to this graphic photo. This is a family friendly blog after all.
Hank’s gift looks like the abused skin of a dead baby polar bear. Which isn’t the feel he was going for originally. So he put this atrocity aside, away from the box of toys and clothes purchased for the infant. Clever readers will guess that in the meantime the baby was born and has now almost certainly grown out of everything in the box; the box still waiting for the Hank-knit, lovingly fashioned binky spun of the hair of angels and poofy summer clouds.
So what is the moral of the story? Well, there are two: Don’t expect to see Hank storming the knitting scene anytime soon and don’t be like Hank and wait too long to give a gift. Life’s too short and there’s no way that baby can tell how wonky his blanket looks.
Cap gets it. Cap thinks the blanket’s fine.
When you try to select any one thing out, you find it is hitched to everything else in the universe.