I Go to the Knitting Class (Part 2)

I won't bore you with the details, but I will just say this: no matter what I do or say, I somehow wind up being the teacher's pet. This has been a blessing/curse in every class, every conference, every school I've attended. And after my class today, I think I can say with confidence that the streak continues.

I don't know what it is. I don't talk that much (at first), I do all my homework, and I have a huge competitive drive coupled with an almost inhuman need for perfection, so I put about 10000 percent into my work (when I like what I'm doing). I don't know why that makes teachers love me.

Actually, now that I think about it, I was maybe not the TP in ALL my classes, because I can for sure think of one teacher (my Algebra II and Advanced Math teacher who made me math-retarded) who did not love me. I don't know for sure if this is because her son went to my school and was my sworn enemy; it could also have been because I never understood what she was saying and my best friend had to teach me how to find imaginary numbers (which, incidentally, is when I finally said, "Really? They're imaginary? ... I'm out."), and then I went and cried to the counselor until she let me drop the class before that C ruined my GPA, and then I had a Scarlett O'Hara moment where I raised my graphing calculator to the sky and said, "As God is my witness, I'll never factor polynomials again," and then I got a full scholarship to college even though I didn't take Calculus OH NO, and now I'm not in rehab or pregnant with my fourteenth child like her actual TPs. Not that I'm bitter.

... um ... what?

So, knitting class. Today we learned how to shape a shoulder seam, which is, according to my teacher, quite difficult, especially for older ladies, because I guess your shoulders start to slope as you grow older; I haven't noticed. But she showed us this cool technique for working around that, and then she said, "I can only think of one person in this class who doesn't need to worry about this," and she gave me a pointed look, until the whole class looked at me too. I was like a deer in the headlights; probably my eyes opened wide and I turned red. I can't say for sure because I think I passed out for a second (I don't like to be the center of attention) (among strangers) (unless I'm the teacher) (it's weird, I know).

"Gravity hasn't hit her yet," she said, talking about me, and everyone covertly looked at my chest, including me (I bet she would be surprised to know that I'm thirty. Plus, and this is very TMI, sometimes a good bra can help with the gravity thing. I'm just saying).

I have to say that she told me several times that my work was perfect. And later in the class she did announce, "I'm very proud of our Beginning Knitter Who Is Left-Handed." (just like that, with capitals and everything). Everybody looked at me again, and I fainted some more, but at least my chest wasn't eye-molested this time.

Actually, though, I do appreciate the personal attention, because this whole knitting thing is relatively new to me, and I don't have the lingo down, and she is VERY patient and not condescending at all. I'm not sure I could do that, if I were in her shoes.

And I do have to say, there's a teeny tiny part of me that is kind of strangely happy about being a Teacher's Pet. Again.

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