Thumbless Mittens

My friend’s nephew recently turned two. He enjoys mittens but hates the thumbs, often resorting to wearing socks on his hands instead. Good honorary auntie that I am, I decided to knit him a pair of thumbless mittens. I settled in for a night of watching a Bette Davis film, knitting needles in hand. A teary movie, a couple of gin and tonics and my mittens were complete.

My motivation is not only based on the child’s distaste for all things thumb. I don’t have children of my own and therefore cannot bank on my own spawn for visits to the nursing home when I am old and decrepit. I am hoping that by that time there will be a breed of highly skilled service dogs who will be trained to wheel me around, cook me soft food and pluck my stray chin hairs. Until that time, I must put my limited knitting skills to good use and hope that I can buy myself some future guilt visits from friends’ offspring.

The thumbless mittens won’t really guarantee a visit, but its a start.

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