Caution: Slippery When Knitted

For those of you who don't know, I knit. I realize how this sounds because when I first met knitters of my own age I started to analyze them more carefully. I admittedly had preconceived notions about what a knitter looked like yet none of these ladies were elderly, tacky, wearing head to toe knitted garments, or had more cats than me.

So as last fall rolled around and days were getting shorter, I found my boredom growing quickly. I could no longer foster kittens because no one in the house was getting enough of my attention as it was. And then I saw an adorable hand knitted baby sweater. I decided to give it a go.

I was immediately hooked and have been knitting ever since. I recently decided to give socks a try. My first pair took forever and turned out WAY too big for me (or anyone smaller than Sasquatch) to actually wear as socks. So I decided to make them slippers. (Hang in there, here comes the relevant part.)

So the other night I had them on and Brian fell asleep while putting Nate to bed. I went upstairs to wake him during a Glee commercial break so I was moving pretty quickly. If you've seen the show you understand. I hit the bottom step on to the hardwood and saw my bright pink knitted foot going flying out from under me. I scrambled up and quickly tiptoed back into the living room before I missed any musical numbers.

At least I'm falling in fine hand knits now. It feels like a step up.

The offending sock:

I should know better. No good can ever come of pink.