I had to finally admit that the sweater I knit a while back did not fit me. The sleeves were too short and too tight. But since I had knit the sleeves from the cuff toward the shoulder, unraveling them wouldn't be so easy. I had to do the knitting version of Open Heart Surgery. Cut the stitches and laboriously unravel one row, all the while trying not to have the teeny tiny stitches fall off the toothpick sized knitting needle.
Robb asked if I called it Open Heart Surgery because it was so delicate and potentially fatal.
I replied that it was terrifying but necessary.
We're both still feeling under the weather. Robb has had a fever, with almost no other symptoms. He's been bundled up in the alpaca sweater I knit him, which is the warmest thing he owns. It's July, and he's huddled under a blanket and shivering in a sweater.