And a batch of my mother's ice-cream dessert with Bailey's Irish Creme. And a week's vacation.
She got put in the slammer after a round of book mangling. Including my copy of "Knitting Rules!" the little shit.
As predicted, I ran out of steam on the socks (still hope to finish them by Monday - we're going to the state fair this weekend and I have the car ride up and back to knit on them) and decided to do some large gauge knitting and started the husbeast's sweater. Listen to me. "Large Gauge". It's four or five stitches to the inch on size 7/4.5mm needles. Large. (Of course I spent the last two months knitting a sweater on size one needles.)
The cat got one last finger in her ear, lost her temper, smacked the baby on the hand (no claws used) and stalked off to the office to hide:
The cat's favorite 'stressed behavior' is to jump all over me in the middle of the night. I can't wait.
The husbeast DID get home from work early, at least, earlier than midnight like we'd expcted (there are great machinations going on in his shop; they've only three people qualified to do the inspections needed, and one of them feels that since he is the ranking enlisted person, he shouldn't have to do any work; today he was informed otherwise) and played with the baby. I'm pretty sure the horridness of the last two days was because she wanted Dadad, not the teething like I thought. Soon as he came home, it was happy baby time. All giggles and smiles and clapping.