(With apologies to Dr. Seuss)
One thread Two thread, Red thread Blue thread.
Black thread Blue thread, Old thread New thread.
Look! I knit a little star!
I can crochet in the car!
Oh what a lot of threads there are!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Poor Mr P
This is what I found in the living/play room when I wandered through there this morning. Poor Mr. P. looks like he is having a strip ripped off of him by Mrs. P. Although she is doing it with a smile.
3 comments:
Anonymous
said...
That is so cute. It looks like she is giving him a piece of her mind. Somehow it looks like she has inherited the family nose too. Could that be Ms J discussing some issues with Mr B. ? I noticed that he is wearing a pair of glasses.
I had a boss in high school who did that. It was always that much more frightening because he was smiling as he ripped into us. (We worked at a stained glass factory, and the usual diatribes were because we'd forgotten to change the blades on the band saws and because they were dull, snapped an intricate piece we were cutting, and had to start again, which wasted resources, and he'd go off and say, "I guess you girls think this is just a playground, and blah blah blah," all in a horrible soft voice with a smile. Ugh.)
The wee one has learned very early. Art imitating life, me thinks.
The resemblance is too good. She has your nose, and lovely pouty lower lip. He's got my moustache, glasses, no visible hair, and dumb expression. But I don't have buck teeth, so it must be some other guy. Maybe.
This is what I found in the living/play room when I wandered through there this morning. Poor Mr. P. looks like he is having a strip ripped off of him by Mrs. P. Although she is doing it with a smile.
3 comments:
That is so cute. It looks like she is giving him a piece of her mind. Somehow it looks like she has inherited the family nose too. Could that be Ms J discussing some issues with Mr B. ? I noticed that he is wearing a pair of glasses.
Mamoo
I had a boss in high school who did that. It was always that much more frightening because he was smiling as he ripped into us. (We worked at a stained glass factory, and the usual diatribes were because we'd forgotten to change the blades on the band saws and because they were dull, snapped an intricate piece we were cutting, and had to start again, which wasted resources, and he'd go off and say, "I guess you girls think this is just a playground, and blah blah blah," all in a horrible soft voice with a smile. Ugh.)
The wee one has learned very early. Art imitating life, me thinks.
The resemblance is too good. She has your nose, and lovely pouty lower lip. He's got my moustache, glasses, no visible hair, and dumb expression. But I don't have buck teeth, so it must be some other guy. Maybe.
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