Before we left for the park last week, I looked at my socks-in-progress. I think I even picked them up and started to put them in my bag before deciding that I wasn't going to want to work on them. Sitting in the emergency room a few hours later, I really could have used some mindless ribbing to distract myself from the long wait.
I should know that you can't predict when you'll find yourself stuck someplace. At the very least, I should keep a pair of spare needles and some dishcloth cotton in my tote bag. Watching reruns of TV series you've never seen doesn't do much to soothe frazzled nerves...
It turned out that the cut wasn't as awful as it looked as we dripped blood from the playground to the car. Eight stitches later, everything was back in place (never had to say that about a cut before!) and the little finger in question is going to be just fine. I took pictures because I knew that his brothers and his daddy would want to know what was under the gauze, but I'm not posting them here because I like you all too much to subject you to that image.
There may be a scrapbook page down the road because the cut looks creepily similar to the incision on his daddy's ankle. I think they're going to have matching scars.
You'd think that with the number of times I've written similar posts I'd know to always carry some kind of handwork with me. What about you? Do you keep knitting or piecing in your bag?