For the past couple of weeks, between projects and deadlines, I have been making time for granny squares. The entire time I have been crocheting, my little boy has wanted to know if I am making him a blanket. Federal cuts permitting, he is scheduled to begin preschool this fall. Having been told by the director of the program that the only thing he needed to bring was a blanket, it was time to honor my son’s request. He was delighted when I finally said, “Yes, I am working on your blanket!”
The next words out of my mouth were nothing but the baited words of a woman who secretly still loves to torture the young artist buried somewhere inside her more domesticated self, “What colors do you want your blanket to have?”
His answer, no matter how innocent, turned a simple, loving project into the most important, complicated project I have ever undertaken. Ever. “I would love pink and green, Mommy. Oh, and black and purple and blue and white and silver and red and yellow and orange. Red like McQueen.”
The simple two color blanket I had almost finished was, clearly, out the window. After the panic subsided and my head was clear enough to think, I landed on the decision of the good, old-fashioned rainbow granny. I was so grateful I found something mutually appeasing that I finished the first strip that afternoon.
The young man was thrilled with it. He even had to nap with the strip.
As the blanket grows, he keeps telling me, “It’s perfect!” He does not care that it is still too small, he protests when I start to add more squares.
Despite his father’s initial reaction that he might get beat up before he quickly realized that our son is going to school with a homemade blanket at three and not at fourteen,”It’s perfect.”
And, it is.