An acronym for "To Stupid to Knit." Honestly, I am surprised that the Knitting Police have not come to my home and stripped me of my needles, yarn, totes, etc. But I digress. Let’s look at the problem at hand a little more closely shall we.
We will ignore the fact that said knitter has been under extreme pressure from a source within the household to finish said dreaded cardigan. "Can I wear it tomorrow?" Has been asked of said knitter for the last FIVE DAYS. She has persisted in asking even though she has been informed ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS, that 1) the sleeves must be finished; 2) the neckline must be finished; 3) the tie must be finished; 4) ends woven in; and last but not least 5) it must be blocked. I believe that it is a real testament to my patience that I have not sold her to wandering gypsies.
Moving on, I finished the sleeves on Monday evening. I was so excited, I could hardly contain myself. The end was in sight. Tuesday morning, despite that fact that I showered, attended to the children, the dog, gave one child a ride to school, normal early morning activities, I managed to pick up the stitches along the neckline. I have been knitting on this since October people. I was thrilled. Went home for lunch, ate quickly, let the dog out, turned on the TV to watch the Harlot on Knitty Gritty (there was not a blank tape in the house, but that is another story) sat down to knit and watch. Started watching (she was wonderful, did you know 1) she has a dimples and 2) she sounds like she slams down whiskey straight out of the bottle.) I started knitting. Each time I came to the end of one row, it did not look right (that should have been a clue). Mind you, each time I came to that end, try as I might, it did not look correct, I tried picking up more stitches, still it did not look correct. The clock is ticking, Knitty Gritty is winding down, the Harlot was still be funny and wonderful. I then laid out the cardigan on the cedar chest to look at what should have been a completed neckline. NOT. It seems that in my excitement and the usual morning confusion, I had not picked up all of the stitches. There were at least 14 more from the top of the sleeve down to the garter ridge band!
So tonight, after supper, and a choral concert at Delong, I came home put on my comfy clothes, put the Deadliest Catch on and proceeded to RIP OUT the neckline. T.S.T.K.