First, there was this:
When I went to the ER two days before Christmas and they diagnosed my broken fibula, they put my leg in a splint. That's a cast that's temporary, for those who are as clueless as I was. A splint leaves the tootsies exposed to the elements, just like a cast does. I didn't like that so much. When I returned home from the ER in the wee hours of Christmas Eve, I started this cast sock, based on a Lion Brand pattern. I was invited to Natalie's for dinner, and while there I finished the sock and put it on. We're talking toasty. After that, I wore it one other time, and that was to the orthopedist's, where they removed the splint and put me in the walking boot. I much prefer the boot, but I lamented the loss of my cozy sock, which was rendered useless. I thought maybe I'd someday have occasion to pass it on to some other poor soul with a broken bone.
Then, yesterday, I got cramps.
My mind started working in that super selfish way that a woman's mind can only work when she's on her period. It was ALL about me and my cramps. I passed by the sock and suddenly it morphed into this:
All I have to do now is fill 'er up with hot water.