Smackdown

I shouldn't have gloated yesterday. The knitting gods heard me, and smacked me down. I was playing judge in child support court yesterday afternoon, and getting the strangest assortment of cases. Instead of the usual whiny excuses and promises to pay better in the future if I would not throw them in jail, I had an arrogant, unrepentant man who thought it was perfectly acceptable to go months/years without paying anything, then pay large sums just before court, a lazy slacker who has twice applied and been refused disability (at the ripe old age of 28) but maintains he is unable to work no matter what his doctor says, and a bitter man who doesn't pay support on his older three children but saw no problem in fathering a fourth then claiming that he doesn't dispute the child support worksheet, just can't afford it or he would just have to not eat and die, and if I was going to order him to pay that much in child support then he wanted to see his child (as punishment to the mother for pursuing child support to begin with, I presume) and in fact wanted joint custody. I need a beer!

And the worst part, I couldn't even knit! I had brought Pomotomus with me, fully prepared to knit happily in pattern on the half side, stockinette on the other half, finish the foot, decrease the toe, and model my new wonderful sock. That was the plan. Instead, I realized that I had messed up. . . somewhere, and couldn't sit there in uninterrupted silence long enough to figure it out! Augh!

I am in court myself most of the day, and tonight is our usual Thursday night at the American Legion, so figuring it out today doesn't look promising. Maybe if I just leave it alone for a week to pout (the sock pouting, that is, not me) it will right itself and let me finish it.

Today, it is all about the humility.