Sigh

Well...

Thanks to the Walking Dead Season 2 (Hooray for Netflix) I was able to make substantial progress on Hagrid.

Just look at that armhole

(side note:  I'm pretty sure the proper term I am looking for is armscye.  I'm pretty sure that is the correct professional jargon for the opening of a garment through which one sticks their arm.  But armhole is a way more fun word.  Just say it out loud.  Now call someone a stupid armhole in your best angry voice.  Yup.  Fun.  Anyways, back to the armhole...)

Looks good right?  Looks like it will actually work.  Like this sweater will fit a four year old body.

Hope.

I had it.

Amid the gruesome zombies I knit.  And if truth be told there was a scene where I actually held the knitting in front of my face to hide myself from the carnage on the TV (and possibly to keep the zombie from seeing me), it was too gross to be allowed.  I grew up on zombie movies.  I think it is reasonable to assume a causation between those movies and my fear of being eaten alive.  All that fear and ick must have made me knit super fast.  I finished the entire body of the sweater in one sitting.  You might want to file that tidbit of information away in case there ever is a zombie apocalypse.  Zombies cause me to knit stupid fast.  I could clothe an entire commune in warm stuff in under a week.  You're gonna want me around when you can no longer loot cheap socks from Wal-Mart.  Just something to keep in mind when you're choosing who to rescue and who to leave behind to get eaten alive by zombies (*Pick Me* * Rescue Me* *Love Me*).

Full of joy I put this purple fuzzy monstrosity on my cuddly four year old.

Fail.

I hates it.

It gives me a sad.

The front does not drape the way I hoped it would.  If I fuss around with it I can get something close to the way I pictured it in my mind.

But let's be realistic here.  I was going to put this sweater on a four year old.  She was not going to tolerate having me constantly fussing with her sweater to ensure the proper drape.  She just wants to dance in the living room and sing "Starships."  Yes, that "Starships."  The Nicki Minaj song.  She only knows the Glee version.  I'm not ready to hear her sing "Higher than a mother %^&*$^" just yet.  She thinks the lyrics are "Higher than any other." It is my general plan to never let her hear the original version.  She has arm motions to go with her song.  It is super cute.  There is no room for me to adjust the drape of her sweater when she has arm motions to go with her song.

Back to the drawing board on this one.

In the mean time, see this picture

Does that expression remind you of anything?

They both humor me and my camera.