Chase, The Sock

Wassup? I’d like to introduce myself. My name is Chase. Chase the Sock. On her way to a ski trip, my knitter cast me on in a moment of shear desperation. She was worried that the lighting in the condo she and the other feet had rented would not be good enough to work on the wee ripper’s sweater at night. So, here I am.

You can probably guess why I’m called Chase. In fact, you can probably see the wee ripper in the background. That’s what my knitter and I do. We chase the wee ripper around.

Now, I wouldn’t tell just anyone this but the wee ripper makes me feel vulnerable. He just plain scares me. He grabbed me by my sensitive parts once. Yeah, that’s right, by the needles. I shudder just thinkin’ about it. With him too close, I always feel like I might come…I hate to even say the word…unravelled….

Luckily, while my knitter was on her ski trip, she found this real cool bag (purchased at the Gold/Smith Gallery) to hold me in.

It’s a sock bag. You gotta problem with that? It holds me real good and secure, like.

Gotta go. The wee ripper is on the prowl again. I like it when he’s on the move. After a nice crawl session for the wee ripper, I feel like I’ve grown! With any luck, my knitter and I will be chasing the wee ripper around until I’m completed. After that, get this, my knitter has promised me a lady love to hang around with. Crawl, baby, crawl!