Macaw, Macaw, Fly Back, Macaw

There's a really annoying game we play at our house.  Or, it doesn't bother me that much, since it is essentially Willow running across the house to fling herself into my arms, but said running can be heard miles away, not to mention that she doesn't come until I yell "Macaw, Macaw, Fly Back, Macaw!"

In honor of this new bird identity of hers, when I taught a class on the Chickadee Hat to a group of very talented, patient, and frankly courageous knitters at Patricia's last weekend, I started Willow a Macaw hat. 

I brought it home with only the brim and earflaps done, and showed it to her, figuring she'd nod and smile, like she does at most of my knitting before it's complete. 

Um, no.  "I want to wear it!"

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, it's not done yet.  But..." (internal panic as I hadn't really planned on working on this as I have so much else to do) "...I promise I'll finish it really, soon, okay?"

(Hands me my bag.)  "Would you knit it, please?"

(Sigh).  "Okay, sweetie."

Repeat that scenario fifty times, and the hat was done in five hours.

At least she really likes it.