Calling 1-800-GYPSIES; a story in pictures

At long last, here is what I believe was the source of my terrible nightmare from the other day:


This is my first-born child.

This is Crown Mountain Farms Sock Hop yarn in the Hang On Sloopy colorway. I bought it for myself last August with a bit of birthday dosh. It is the most expensive yarn I own.

This is what my first-born child did to the most expensive yarn I own.

These are the DVDs which contain the five episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer I watched while untangling the most expensive yarn I own.

Once I was finished, (Damn is orange yarn hard to photograph!)

I bathed my child, and combed his hair, and fluffed it back up so it was nice and curly again. I dressed him in a nice clean outfit.

And I called the gypsies.

This is how much the gypsies offered me for my clean, well-dressed, cute-to-the-casual-observer child.

This struck me as a bit low, considering that at 11 cents a year, that's an abysmally low return on investment.

I thanked them for their time but decided I would keep the child, though I was still mystified as to what would prompt them to make such a low offer.

After they left, I noticed my one and only skein of (accursed) Socks That Rock:

Mystery solved.