tears of a clown
Says a passing son " Ummm, Mom? Are you knitting clown shoes now?"
Then I'd show you Day 2: The cute little Felted Ballerina Slippers (Mary Jane style) for my niece. They are knit with a yarn that felts, is on record as felting, I have seen felted. No matter how you conjugate it, all should proceed as expected. The slippers would be about the length of the scissors, to fit her just right. I'd even sew on cute little buttons that I can't decide between.
And that'd be it. Short, amusing. HA.
Hear me sob?
Day 2, the reality:
Observe the scissors. After 6 times through the washer, the slippers have ripped seams on two pillowcases and taken down an old bath mat, along for the agitation. You can see the white specks of deconstructed mat backing in the fuzz. The only thing more agitated is me.
Day 3: After assurances and virtual hand holding (there is no end to felting! it will go smaller still! persevere!) , I get serious. I am the grand torturer of slippers. They are doused with boiling water, plunged into cold water, pummeled in a low water level by old jeans, a towel, a tennis ball, a baseball and some kind of hard dog toy ball that rolled into my line of sight in the basement. All gnashing vigorously in the top loader. A baker's dozen of times through the cycle and they are smaller. I need more shrinkage. Amused, Dave suggests a multi-appliance approach: the microwave? A few minutes in the oven? Steam 'em in the dishwasher? I am not laughing. (maybe a little, its ridiculous).
My last best effort:
Out of the agitation 2 cycles later, I plunge them into ice water, then back to the washer for a last cycle.
The right one fits me, the largest female foot in the family. The left one remains capacious. The niece will be getting a pair that I'll cast on sometime later this week, in a smaller size.
(close with sounds of weeping).