I sent my dad that last picture of the bright afghan so that he and my mom could see what’s become of all that yarn they helped me dye and then untangle.
My dad calls me up last night and says, “Those are pot holders, B., not afghans. Afghans are much larger.”
And then, swear to god, my dad “Tee hee”-ed me!
Me, the queen of “tee hee”-ing people!
God, it tickled me so much.