My husband is knitting.
I probably shouldn’t be surprised. Although my husband has never done anything quite this effeminate before (aside from relishing Jane Austen movies, I guess), he’s always had a casual disregard for gender roles, or, in fact, any rules imposed by a society which clearly does not operate at as high an intelligence level as he himself possesses. Also, it makes sense. He’s very physically dexterous, and he needed a new project. And why should I be so hung up on gender roles that I think it’s weird for boys to knit?
But I thought we were buying the yarn, the needles, and the Stitch&Bitch for me.
What happened was, I recently took up embroidery with this lovely kit. I happened to be with my m-i-l when I purchased it, and she mentioned that she’d heard knitting was making a comeback, and she’d like to take it up herself, because not only would she be able to make nice, warm things for her family (a major value for her), but she might stop biting her nails. So I bought her the Stitch&Bitch, and the requisite supplies, for Mother’s Day. This prompted my husband to lament, for the four hundred and second time, that I haven’t yet learned to knit. I ignored him, but then I started reading, and I got interested. Also, I bought a hank of yarn, which looks like a coil of yarn rather than the standard ball or skein, for his mother, and the two of us had a great time rolling it in a ball for her. He had an especially good time, as he went a lot faster than me. So he decided that we would buy all the necessary equipment for me this week, and he would roll yarn into a ball, and that would make him happy.
But now he appears to be knitting. And having a great time. He’s told me I don’t need the book, he’ll just show me. But why should I learn how to knit if he’s going to do it? I’ve got embroidery projects to work on.