On Sunday afternoon I prepaired myself for an exciting Cowboys game.  I pulled on a sweater (Kevin had it unusually cold in the house), made a cup of hot tea with honey and milk, got out my knitting, and pulled on a pair of handknit wool socks.  I was content...   Then the Cowboys lost.  I thought it couldn't get much worse until I looked down and discovered this...

The horror!  My poor, poor sock.  This was the first pair of socks that I ever made.  They are only 2 years old.  I will now attempt to darn a sock.  Their fate is not the trash can.  I could never bring myself to do something like that!