humour

If knitting stitches were eggs

‘I’ve lost my count!’ Shana wailed. A fine time to lose count, I thought. She could have done it at some other time than while working on a  Top Secret new project 🙂

But the wailing continued…

‘I have forty-eight stitches here…’

‘Now just hold it there a moment,’ I said. ‘This isn’t going to turn into one of those math headaches like the one about how long it takes two men to fill a bath and what happens if they rope in two more workers, is it?’

‘No of course not,’ said Shana. But I was not entirely reassured.

‘And you promise it won’t deteriorate into one of those “Let x equal the number of stitches” algebra nightmares?’

‘Certainly not,’ said Shana.

‘Very well then. Go ahead and state your problem,’ I said.

‘Well, I’ve just forgotten how to divide forty-eight by twelve,’ said Shana. An embarrassing difficulty, I thought, especially for Shana, who studied accountancy many years ago when the abacus still ruled the world 🙂

‘Let’s make it easy,’ I said. ‘Try to imagine the twelve is, say, a dozen eggs. Instead of worrying about stitches, look at it as four dozen eggs. See? Your forty-eight eggs divided by twelve is four. Got it?’

‘Thanks a lot,’ said Shana. ‘You’ve been a great help.’ Shana’s subtle intonation suggested, however, that she rather thought otherwise. And that if those stitches had indeed been eggs, I would now have a bonce fairly covered in yolk.

‘You’re most welcome,’ I said, thick-skinnedly. ‘Don’t mention it.’

Now, why do I have a sudden appetite for a supersized egg and bacon omelette?

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