Just Call Me Benedict

I feel so guilty. Like a traitor to the knitting world. I have gone against my wooly good sense. I have thrown away years of lanolized conviction.

I switched to pocket diapers.

For years I used contour diapers with Snappi and wool soaker. For years I have sewn my own cloth diapers and dutifully knit covers. I have an extensive library of patterns for soakers, longies, and skirties. I have most of them memorized.

But, Ladies, I must confess that I am tired of knitting soakers. I am, dare I say it?, *sick* of knitting soakers. And it casts a pallor on everything that I knit. “This lace sure is fun, but I ought to be knitting another soaker…”

And then, a friend (and fellow knitter) gave me five pocket diapers. Just enough for a trip to town, or a few hours with a babysitter. And I was hooked. I mean, seriously hooked. All of the sudden I wasn’t the only one in the house who would change a diaper. It was liberating, I tell you.

I was so giddy with my new found freedom that I ordered a few more of the wonderful little things (a few or twenty five. Whatever).

The point is that now I can knit whatever I want! All that worsted weight yarn? It is totally freed up to be used on *whatever I want!*

I may be the Benedict Arnold of the Knitting World, but I think I can live with that. Meanwhile I am going to hand this stinky baby to The Man for him to change and I am going to knit a not-a-soaker knitting project.

Life is good.