Monday, November 16, 2009

S-Elfish Motivations

I did not blog yesterday. I thought about it. But, in the end, it didn't seem right to do so.

This is a knitting blog. Except when it is a spinning blog and I probably could have done a post had I spun. I did not spin. That left me with nothing. As much as I thought I should blog, I couldn't be true to the theme. So I blogged not.

Today, however, I knit. I knit three whole rounds on The Hat That Will Never Be Finished. I did not do this for the inherent "hat value." I don't wear hats. I did not do it so I could have the satisfaction of finishing something. It will probably never be finished. It didn't get its name for nuthin'! I also didn't do it so I'd have something to take my mind off the fact that I was riding the little exercise bike, although it did have that effect. It wasn't enough to make cardio less torturous, but I don't think it's fair to blame the knitting for that.

No. My motives were none of these. They were neither noble nor practical. I knit so I could justify blogging tonight and to be given a forum for two simple lines. This may seem like a great deal to go through just to jot down two sentences but, I assure you, it is more than worth it. Way more than...

This afternoon, as my class was settling in for their end of the day activities, The Great Debater decided to tell the tale of a childhood haircut. He hated that haircut for two reasons. First, his mother did it at home and we all know how that goes, don't we? Secondly, the cut revealed his ears which, at that time in his life, hadn't quite grown into their present, rounded shape.

And then he said them. The greatest lines I've heard in months. The kind of lines that probably don't translate well into print, but are worth knitting a hat so you can write them anyway. The two lines that I someday hope to have engraved in sterling silver and hung upon my wall for all to see. In their present digital form they are less impressive, but still beg to be written.

"When I was little, I thought I was an elf. I was really concerned for about a year."


SA

18 comments:

Betsy said...

These are the days in education when you are paid for not bursting out laughing...or crying...or being rendered into some trance-like state to contemplate what was said...

Georgi said...

Priceless. . .

trek said...

A whole year, eh? Wonder how long ago that haircut was anyway...

knitseashore said...

That must have been SOME haircut. But I think they are a right-of-passage, and he happened to have his earlier in life.

Mel said...

Maybe he really is an elf and his ears just haven't stopped growing into their final elvish form.

My verification word is "somatio", which appears to have an ecclesiastical meaning. I feel so righteous.

kmkat said...

As adult we forget the things that concerned us as children, the things that occupied our every waking thought. It is good to be reminded of that.

I read an article in one of my dad's magazines when I was about 9; it was all about how nuclear war -- or mutant virii or aliens from outer space, I forget which -- could destroy all life on earth in the blink of an eye. I was devastated and haunted by worry about it for weeks. Eventually it didn't happen and I forgot.

=Tamar said...

I wonder why he thought being an elf was something to worry about.

I'm happy that he felt safe to say it.

Julia G said...

Perhaps he will grow up to be a dentist, like Hermie the Misfit Elf.... Times change- when I was in grammar in the mid '60's school boys got detention for having their hair over their ears or collars!

My word verification word is "locarica" --does that mean I'm "crazyrich"?

Jeanne said...

WhenI was little, I took everything literally. For example, when I heard "Please stand by", it meant I had to go stand next to the TV until it was all clear again.

Once, in a philosophical moment, my mother told me that we all continue to grow as we get older. Well, Dad was 6'3". I took in this information, dwelt upon it, and a few hours later was in hysterics, for fear that Dad might one day outgrow the house, and what would we do? My poor Mother, having to deal with me.

She must have thought I'd "lorst" my mind (verification word!).

Kath said...

Oh my mother spent years telling me that when I was born my ears were pointy! I'm used to it.

Julie said...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA That's all I've got!

Karen said...

That's why you go to work every single day, right.

KnitKicky said...

with a line like that--of COURSE you had to blog! Kids--always good for a laugh.

Elaine said...

Can you even imagine what that year must have been like for him? Poor thing. I wonder what happened to have him realize he was simply a human....

Ronni said...

Awesome! For that you'd have gotten a pass on the knit content required you know.

Donna Lee said...

I would have been sad to discover I wasn't really an elf. It seems like it might be a good thing to be. Especially when i watch Legolas walk on top of the snow. Now there's a useful talent.

too bad you won't see that kid when he's an adult and remind him of this.

Cursing Mama said...

The pointy ears would've been tough to deal with in school - all the kids surely would've said with a funny little elfin voice "I want to be a dentist"

~Hermey from Rudolph the Red Nosed Raindeer.

Knitting Linguist said...

Bwahaha!! Dude, seriously? Well worth that knitting, just to type that.