“This green is my favorite.” Sandra was petting the two additional balls of yarn in my knitting bag. “Does she have any left?”
“Sadly, no. I bought her out.”
Sandra’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have any extra?”
I shifted my knitting bag closer to my side and out of her reach. “Go fondle your own fiber, Sandra.”
Elizabeth, who was sitting on my left curled up next to me, began to shake with silent laughter.
Janie held up the ball she was using for her crochet project. “Here. You can stick your finger in my ball. But I warn you, it’s acrylic.”
Sandra made a face like Janie’s yarn was made of cockroaches, Ashley gave a little shiver of revulsion, while Fiona laughed. “You two are terrible. These hats are for infants. Acrylic is a great yarn for baby hats.”
Fiona was on her seventeenth baby hat for the year, Grace—Fiona’s oldest daughter—was on her twentieth, and Janie was on her twenty-sixth. Natalie, Janie and Quinn’s youngest, had been born prematurely. Janie had gone nuts for the first few weeks, feeling like she couldn’t do anything while her infant daughter was in the NICU, so Fiona had suggested we all crochet and knit infant hats for the hospital.
Now, whenever any of us were in between projects or had just about 100 yards of worsted weight yarn to use, we knit a baby hat.
“Okay,” Sandra stood and walked to the center of the room, “I want to ask everyone’s opinion about something.”
“Great.” Ashley tried to hide her smirk behind a pained sounding sigh.
“Here we go.” Marie rolled her lips between her teeth, clearly fighting to keep her face straight.
“I can’t wait!” Grace set her knitting down and skootched to the end of her seat, looking up at Sandra with excitement.
Sandra placed her hands on her hips, glaring at each of us. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“You know,” Elizabeth sighed sadly, “Rose wants to learn how to knit soon. So we might not get a chance to have these ‘Sandra’ conversations for much longer.”
“Is it about edible condoms? Because we’ve already covered that.” Ashley’s voice was perfectly flat.
“But was it covered in enough detail?” Elizabeth gave Sandra an encouraging look. “Because, if memory serves, Sandra only made it through the fruit and vegetable flavors.”
“And sex robots.” Fiona shook her head. “Don’t forget about the sex robots.”
“Did I miss that one?” Grace asked her mother.
“It was before you started knitting,” she answered, then under her breath added, “thank God.”
“That was Marie, not me.” Sandra pointed at Marie.
Marie chuckled, admitting sheepishly, “That was me.”
“Okay, fine, out with it.” Ashley waved her hand in the air impatiently, “What is it this time? Sex cruises?”
“They have those?” Elizabeth sat up.
Marie shook her head, like she was disappointed in Elizabeth’s lack of knowledge about sex cruises. “Of course they have those. This is the United States.”
“Holy crap! It’s none of that.” Sandra issued Marie an irritated look.
“Okay. Fine.” Fiona set down her knitting and turned a patient gaze to Sandra. “We’re sorry.”
Sandra lifted her nose, and then gave Fiona a small head-nod of acknowledgement. “Thank you.”
“Now what would you like to discuss?” I asked.
Sandra cleared her throat, gathered a deep inhale, and then asked the group, “Are any of you lovely ladies familiar with the concept of nocturnal orgasms?”
The End