42: frankenbear's monster
Way back in June, when I was marking essays at the library, I found a book called Knitting For Baby. Later that day a divine madness descended and I started maniacally knitting a teddy bear. This bear stayed on the shelf forever, a victim of my poor finishing skills.
Today, my delightful son ripped the eye out of my brother's Henry Rollins doll. I decided to finish this long-suffering bear to give him another target while I fixed poor Hank.
Don't look at me! I'm hideous!
This is one ugly bear. He appears to have scoliosis due to my uneven seaming (this is only one of his problems, so please don't write me hate mail about my negative attitude toward scoliosis. It's one thing to have it; it's another to create it due to massive incompetence). His nose is bulbous and rather understuffed. And he is always peering to one side, as if to say, "I can't even look at you. Why did you bring me into this world?"
"Dude! He pulled out my f***ing eye!"
"Don't worry, you look fine. At least you can turn your head to the right."
I don't think I will ever do this pattern again. Although it's nice that Henry's made a friend. Blake loves Henry (and often dances him about, singing "I'm a liar! I'll turn you into me!" in his sweet, high-pitched toddler voice), but it seems a bit dysfuntional right now. Henry needs all the friends he can get.
Henry finds solace knitting my second Sockapaloooza sock. Knit, Henry, knit! We only have 5 weeks!
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*