The Weekday One Hundred

Nana lived only blocks away. A ten minute walk tops. Yet I’ve almost killed myself twice on the way over.

And all because of this giant scarf.  

Last year’s Christmas gift. Took months to crochet, she said. I believed her too. Must have used ten rolls of yarn on the damn thing.

I’d already wrapped the leaden muffler around my neck twice. And it still dragged along the pavement, still got caught under foot, still dared me to fall and break my neck.

I finally reached her front door. Nana greeted me holding up a giant matching sweater.

“Merry Christmas!”