Certainly not Scratchy.
Wool socks aren’t itchy. At least the ones I have aren’t (Smartwool or the REI knockoffs, made out of merino wool). They are just wonderfully warm and comfortable. I’m wearing some right now.
If being vegan means giving up wool socks, forget it.
Yeah, don’t sheep have to be sheared, or they get all matted? (In that it’s kind of like dog grooming)
This has been bugging me all day from when I first read it. I think I have the solution.
Look for a local professional knitter. Take this sweater to her (or him) and ask her to find the exact same kind and color of yarns, and then make you a perfectly fitting sweater like it was supposed to be. Then pass it off at the next family gathering as what was given to you as a gift. Obviously that will cost you some, but the confusion it will generate will be worth it. When she gets through the confusion and finally takes credit for it, go to the bathroom and change into the original.
I want to see that sweater So Much.
**Second Stone’**s idea seems brilliant to me. And caught me entirely off guard, switching back into ugly sweater, at the end. Love it so much !
I, too, really want to see the sweater!
Rather disappointed this year. A calendar, some crappy shirts, my stepmum got me Calvin Klein bulge briefs (awkward!), and father in law got me…a bag of saffron rice.
Domestics, yes. Wild sheep, no. For a good example of what happens when you don’t shear a domestic, look up photos of Shrek the Sheep.
I hereby nominate Second Stone for today’s Winner Of The Internet award. (I could picture the whole thing as a YouTube video, complete with showing the original gift at the beginning of the vid all the way to the switcheroo at the end.)
My acquaintances have all learned that if they screw with me they will deeply regret it. Obviously, I have no friends.
The eerily brilliant part about this plan is that one of my coworkers is not only a great knitter but is a semi-professional knitting designer on the side. (I’m not sure if that’s the right term, but she designs and sells knitting patterns, including ones for fancy sweaters.) So I know just the right person to create a good handmade sweater for me, although I have no idea when I’ll next see the relative responsible for the original sweater. We actually haven’t seen each other in years; she mailed me the sweater.
For those who’ve been asking to see a photo of the sweater, sorry to disappoint you but I don’t think I’ll be posting any. I’d have to model it to show it off to full effect, and I don’t want photos of me on the Internet in this thing. I’m also afraid that it wouldn’t live up (down?) to your expectations, and I don’t want to hear “Oh, but it’s not that bad!”
Having other people make demeaning slights about my ethics when I tell them about it just makes the gift all the more special.
I got an electric toothbrush.
I shall go to my grave wondering about that thing.
" My one regret… is that I never… saw Lamia’s sweater…".
My family will go to theirs wondering why those were my last words. “Who’s Lamia?”.
After several years of no gift exchanges, my mother, age 83 and not too mobile, declared she was going to get people presents because she was feeling pretty good and was looking forward to shopping. She did the elderly equivalent of planning the D-Day landing: bundled up, buffed up her best cane, called the oldsters’ taxi service, and headed downtown. She did great! Fabulous cassoulet pot for Ms. Kropotkin, great necktie for me. (I wear them.) We asked her how she picked out such an appropriate tie–in style, right width, etc.–and she said she studied all the TV newscasters to get a sense of what was “in.” Mom still rocks it.
On the other hand, we also got the flu.
Keep it for an ugly sweater party?
“Lamia’s sweater.”
“Bosco”
Great final words.
So we have here a mailed gift from a relative that is rarely actually met with. The practical side of me says, she gave you a crappy gift because she doesn’t care about you, not because she wanted to insult you in front of others. A gift exchange would have indicted a deliberate insult and humiliation. I’m going to have to come up with a better plan. I can’t really see going out of one’s way to screw with this lonely biddy by long distance. Or a better victim for the plan.
I say next Christmas send the sweater to her favorite relative as though it were from her, forged card and wrapping job sent from her city and all! Then when you are accused, show up in the perfect forged sweater and say that biddy sent that to you as a gift.
That would just piss everyone off. Great plot for a sit-com episode though.
Actually, I believe the same thing you believe. However, for the reasons you bring up, I have a difficult time taking it seriously.
Epilogue: Mum told me today she originally bought the pjs for me in size 20, realised at home that they’d be too big, kept them for herself and bought me size 10 instead.
Still doesn’t explain the size 14 underpants, but I tactfully left that alone.
You should’ve sent it to my mom – she LOVES black licorice.
My family is pretty good at giving gifts. Probably the only bad one was my mother giving e a bag of pistachios, which I don’t like. So I gave them to my sister, and my mother got me some cashews instead.
MY main issue though is that my mother keeps insisting on getting me more than I want. “What do you want for Christmas?” Oh, just this and this. “Well, you have to want more than THAT!” No, really, that’s all I want. She still wants to make this big production of gifts on Christmas, like when we were kids. I mean, it’s nice, but it can get annoying when I tell her, no, I don’t need a new purse, no, I don’t need socks, a new robe, blah blah blah.