Blech! And sweet

The postman came while I was out this morning and Howard was asleep.  He left a box.  One of the neighbors saw it and grabbed it.  The landlady had seen the box as she went to the laundry room, it was gone when she came back (planning to take it to the office until I returned.)  Later on she was on her way back to the laundry room and saw the box.  It had clearly been opened and rifled.  I'm waiting to see if anything is missing (doubtful, I don't think the person was happy it was yarn and material!) 

I still feel icky about it.  This has been a nice place, and the landlords watch out for us.  But still...

At the laundromat this afternoon there was a little boy who was fascinated that I was knitting.  I told him that I was making a sock.  He wasn't sure he believed me.  :D  He asked me to prove it, so I took off a shoe and said I had made this pair.  He looked at my sock, then the other foot with a shoe on it and said "Let me see the OTHER sock!"  Mom, in the background, isn't sure whether to reprove him or to let it go.  I took off the other shoe and pointed out the fact that the spots of bright green were in different places on the two socks.  He then asked me what else I could make. 

I asked him if he'd like to learn how to knit.  He got really sober and said, "Yes, but we can't afford it."  I offered to teach him anyway.  He asked me if he could knit a scarf so he can be warm this winter.  I said yes, I'd teach him.  He then got really serious and told me, "I don't think I can get it done in time, would you please make me one, so I'm not cold this winter?"  So, in the next 2 weeks I plan to make a scarf for a little boy named Nathan.  I'll bring a pair of needles and some yarn, so we can knit together.  (All of this was cleared with Mom.) 

Part of me was trying so hard not to laugh about the sock knitting, because a group of us had a similar argument with another male named Nathan -- my son, when he was in high school.  He backed himself into the corner so thoroughly and yet, in the way of teenagers, couldn't concede the argument.  It sounded just like that discussion.  Both Nathans were sure that socks from a store aren't knit.  I didn't get into the discussion with a 5 year old about how you can see the knit stitches in a store-bought sock.

So, I'm trying to let the positive experience at the laundromat balance the one here.