One night, a few months ago I was tucking my little girl into bed, and she asked me why I'm always crocheting presents for other people, but never crocheting anything for her.
(Now, keep in mind, at the time this girl had in her possession two blankets, three crochet pinafore-style dresses, a pair of slippers, two winter hats, and a few little clothing articles for her stuffed animals all courtesy of the flying fingers of yours truly. However, we can also keep in mind that she is only six, and when you are six, it can be hard to remember things that aren't right in front of you. And, to be fair, it had been a few months since she'd received anything crocheted from me.)
I pointed out that I had actually made her a few items, and asked her why she was so concerned abut it, to which she replied that the things I made for other people were really cool--l
ike that turtle blanket--and the things that I made for her were more normal and not as special.
Since my crocheting is something I do just for fun, and since I waited for a loooooonnnnngggg time to even have a little girl that I
could crochet for, we decided that she would design her own blanket, and then I would crochet it up for her.
She got her handy dandy sketch pad out and immediately went to work:
And then, I went to work as well.
She was pretty pleased, and so was I.
