To my children, so that in future generations you can pinpoint the exact moment that I went crazy, this is it.
Stark raving mad. Crazy.
"Grandma went mad while knitting a sock for the 20 millioneth time and just went right over the edge. We found her twitching and muttering in the corner. Something about stitches and needles and mixing up 2 different patterns in a bad way. That's why all skinny pointed objects have been removed from the house, along with anything closely resembling yarn. Package string, phone cords, cooked spaghetti--these must all be used at your own risk."
It was going so well. I had worked the kinks out of the first sock, and was power knitting through the second sock in an ambitious attempt to get them in the mail tomorrow before the rates go up.
20 rows left to do. 18 rows left to do.
6 rows to do and then the ribbing. How did I do the ribbing, anyway?
Let me look at the last sock.
Arrgggh! The last sock has 66 sts around, while this one HAS ONLY 60!
Stark raving mad--the exact moment.