Oh, I had this thing all figured out. I crocheted around the armhole. I picked up and knit. I made a sleeve cap using short rows (thank you, Wendy Bernard). I did a bit of ciphering to figure out how many stitches I would need, and when I had that many, I made coffee, picked up my book, and started knitting.
This was the scene for most of the day. The sleeve grew, the book absorbed my attention. When my thumbs started to ache, I did what any sensible knitter would do and went to the kitchen to make a Sticky Lemon Cake. Then I came back and knit some more. When the sleeve was long enough, I put the book down and started to attach the crocheted granny square cuff, and that’s when I noticed I had knit the whole thing without adding the eyelet pattern. I had gone about eleven inches too far. I purely forgot about the eyelet pattern. I put the thing on as it was, and stood in front of the mirror, hoping. There was a little bit of a back and forth at that point, between me saying “Who cares? It’s just for me anyway, right? It looks fine! It looks fine, right?” and Dean saying, “Well if you don’t care, I don’t care,” and then me saying, “Well, I think it looks fine like this,” and then him saying, “Sure, it looks fine. If you don’t care.” And then I thought of coming back here and saying, Well, you know, I goofed it up, but who cares, right? And then I ripped it all out, all the way back to the sleeve cap, a whole day’s knitting. Because I care. I do, I care.
Finish book. Then knit.