Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Yarn Ethics

M.A.P. and I are on our honeymoon in a delightful little metropolis in the south. We stumbled upon a yarn store on our way to dinner while tromping around town, and I exclaimed, "Honey! A yarn store! Can you believe it?" and dashed inside. M.A.P. said, "I have been flim-flammed," and sat down in a chair to read Harry Potter.

I limited myself to the odd lots basket and dug out some darling Noro and mohair blends and funky Cascade, loading my shopping basket to the brim, thinking of my pregnant friend as a justification for at least half of the yarn in the basket. I called out to M.A.P. when I reached the counter, seeking his help in curbing my addiction.

Once, twice, three times I called to him. And he never came.

$111.00 later, we stood on the sidewalk; I was accompanied by buyer's remorse, M.A.P. by a rumbling stomach. I blamed him for the remorse I felt, insisting that in the ethical contraptions that shape our relationship, it is his duty to limit my spending in high-risk situations like shoe stores and yarn shops.

(Similarly, given my training as a lawyer and in the area of close-reading, and given we double-tipped the waiter at the resort restaurant last night because an 18% tip is included by the resort on all purchases and M.A.P. doesn't tend to examine receipts, it is my job to ensure that all annoying paperwork is read completely and filled out properly. See e.g. our life insurance documents.)

And he didn't fulfill his duty today. Even though I asked thrice.

Apologies were made and accepted. Shortly thereafter we stuffed our faces on half-priced appetizers at a fun little bistro and drank fruity beer.

M.A.P. then observed that it isn't like we threw the money away on the yarn--like with the double-tipping--since we did purchase worthwhile items that I will certainly turn into other, even more worthwhile items with my knitting.

Did I marry a winner, or what.

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