Having teenagers in the house is always an adventure. They’re at that age when they are striving to differentiate themselves from the crowd while simultaneously desiring nothing more than to fit in. They most definitely do not want parental help, thank you very much… except when they do, and then they need it instantly (and quite possibly yesterday).
And do not under any circumstances do anything that might embarrass them in front of their friends, like reminding them that going to get the mail in nothing but a t-shirt when it’s -38 degrees Celsius outside is probably not the smartest idea they’ve ever had.
Not that the teenager we love most around here has ever done such a thing, and especially not during that blast of bitter, bitter cold we had last week. Of course not. I must have been imagining it.
(Ahem. Where was I?)
They’re rather unpredictable, these teenage creatures. Especially when it comes to Mama-made things. Some, they love. Others garner huge quantities of eye rolling and maybe a little shake of the head that says “Mom, really?!? What were you thinking?”
A little while ago I cast on Dashing fingerless mitts and hoped for the best. I chose a thick, warm gray wool and crossed my fingers that the end product would qualify as “plain gray or plain charcoal or plain black” which are, as K frequently proclaims, the only colours he likes.
Unless you count his favourite soccer team jersey (South Africa, bright yellow with green accents), his favourite Navy shirt (blue with bright yellow letters proclaiming NAVY), and his favourite (and more than slightly subversive) t-shirt which boldly proclaims “Dear Teacher, my kid is hereby excused from ever doing homework again” on a background of bright red.
But we won’t count those because they obviously just don’t count.
(Or so I’ve been told.)
So it was with no small amount of trepidation that I presented him with his very own pair of Dashing mitts. I was expecting a brief “Thanks, Mom.” Maybe, if I was lucky, I would get a hug too. So I grabbed my phone in hopes of grabbing a picture of them in use before they wound up buried in the depths of his locker at school or cast casually aside in the mitten bin in the closet.
And this was the very first photo I got:
He loves them.
He loves them so much, in fact, that he has announced there is absolutely no way he can wear them to school because he might lose them in his locker like he lost his cache-cou last year, and that would be tragic.
The pattern is a fairly straight forward 4×1 ribbing with the occasional cable twist to make it interesting and give it a lovely shaping around the wrist.
I had made a pair for myself in purple a while back and found them extremely long, so I eliminated one repeat to make these significantly shorter. I also reduced the number of rows after the thumb opening from 18 to 4 which means they just barely reach K’s knuckles. If I do them again, I would probably do 9-10 rows instead to get a smidge more coverage of the hand, but that all depends on the wearer’s preferences too.