I could get irritated that it is easier for her. Yes, it could give me some green envy. That she can just pick up yarn and look at directions and make anything. Flowers for your hair! Winter headbands! Coffee cozies! Cowls! Beanie hats! Chevron blankets!
While I have to do one project over and over again until I basically memorize it, for written directions are like a maze to this brain of mine. Here's where I will admit I still can not to this day, hook up a DVD player or a computer or anything which requires that form of thinking.
But I don't. I don't get irritated and I'm not green with envy. Rather I just keep asking her for help instead. Grateful for the time with my little sister on the morning after Chrismas. Still wearing our kind of jammies and sitting on opposite ends of the couch chatting about life in between my pleas of, "Okay now what does a double crochet stitch mean again? Like tell me in loop and pull or loop and pull through two or what?"
Maybe if we were closer in age, there would be more sister competition and general pissed off-ness at her ability to pick all things up so easily. But because I'm an entire decade older, I simply feel proud of that nugget. She is smart. She is kind. And she is one mean little crocheter.
However, I'm not sure if she has surpassed this one yet. Momma Debi has it going on when it comes to anything involving thread or yarn and stitches.
I'll always be in last place in this category, but I'm entirely at peace with it. I really am. Meager memorizing crocheting is my style.
It's not like to get some revenge, I'd share a really unattractive picture of us in the morning having a laugh over her random blurt, "The train. I heard the train in Hartland." A really unattractive picture of the two of us. No, I would never do that.
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