One of the great things about a younger sister is that when ever you are busted for doing something wrong, it’s all their fault. This is the right of the firstborn, your very own patsy. I used to think that the right expired once you were eighteen, but apparently not. Here I am, about to tattle.
“MOM!!! Shel dragged me to the yarn shop, made me buy silk yarn and she bought bamboo wool AND circular needles AND this gorgeous navy blue yarn that has sparkles that looks like stars against hte night sky. AND THEN she made me look at (shocked horror rises in my voice, even as I throw her the “Now you’re gonna get it” look) RAVELRY, mom, for just hours, just pattern after pattern, sweaters, cowls tanks and there’s more , mom, so much more She found Coachella, http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/coachella and then she says (cuz she’s evil, mom, pure evil “Gift of God” my foot) “Can you just START this for me since all the hard parts are at the beginning? AND THEN I (virtuosity personified, note the halo and wings) said “NO, I can’t cheat on my list, think of my poor waiting tunic yarn layng there (enter violins) cold and alone, patiently waiting to burst from it’s sad lonely cocoon into the butterly glory that is http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/lacy-leaves-tunic-2 but she is so sneaky and pushes and pushes me to my breaking point by saying “Please.” Devious, that one. (end hurried run on sentence) Now, don’t you wish you had listened to me and gotten me that puppy I wanted instead of HER?”
Once again, all her fault.