Eat your heart out Stephen Hawking

I stitched over the weekend.  I stitched a lot over the weekend, maybe to the point where one eye was twitching slightly and Shawn started using that tone of voice.  The soothing one you use on crazy irrational people.  The one that by the way husbands of crafters at Christmas time all over the world, tends to incite aforementioned crafter to even more fury and crazed eye twitching.  If the soothing tone is accompanied by suggestions that it would be ok if such handcrafted acts of love were not completed on time and that (brace yourselves) a substitute stand in of a store bought (insert crafted item here) were to be purchased it would be ok, then may God have mercy on your soul because your crafter will likely rise up and smite you.  Christmas is not the time for the bitter gall of failure.  Christmas is the time for hope.  Hope that I will master the time continuum and worm holes and all that.  That's right.  It's not going to be Stephen Hawking or some such smarty pants physicists that masters that stuff.  It's going to be a crafter with a Christmas deadline.