It keeps interfering with my knitting.
Yesterday the husbeast asked me, "Do you have any plans for the weekend, other than knitting your ass off?" I said, "no". But what are we doing today? The zoo.
It's the husbeast's birthday and he wants to 'do something'. Normally when he gets stir crazy I tell him to go do something and have a lovely time and take the baby, then stay home and knit (or nap, or dance on the couch). His birthday, though, I'm not getting away with it. So off we go to Charles Towne Landing, home of the local zoo, ancient settlement being dug up by archeologists, parks, and a bunch of other stuff. (If it's cool, I hope to get a season ticket so that the baby and I can go there on week days and hang out. She needs to get out of the house more.)
And I'm not knitting. If I became a hermit I'd get a hell of a lot more done around here.
Oh, and the baby decided to get stuck in a bar stool this morning. I was laughing so hard I could barely take photos. (After the last one, we rescued her, I swear she's not still stuck.)