I knit this sweater for my daughter Hope. She's crazy about penguins! My companion Fred predicted (in his deep-authoritarian radio-announcer's voice) that: "She'll grow out of it one day."
But it hasn't happened yet! Hope really likes penguins.
I get somewhat disturbed when I visit Hope's apartment. All those little tiny beady eyes staring at me from almost every cranny of the room. I'm not sure ("Yes, I am") that I shouldn't have discouraged this penchant of hers at a formative age.
But I didn't.
She's not a great housekeeper either, my baby Hope. The clutter and the penguins are too alternate-reality-of-it-all for me to get them firmly lodged into any synapse. However, I like visiting my daughter. It just doesn't happen often enough for me to get used to all those penguins.
REALLY LIKES PENGUINS!!!
I'm proud that my baby Hope really likes penguins. I believe penguins need all the Hopes they can get.
But I feel sad for the penguins having to reach all the way through Pandora's Box. I sure am grateful though that Hope's there for the penguins.
Even if her way does take some adjustment on my part.
I guess that's the problem with the penguins.
They're just not willing to adjust.