Still No Cuprit

But I do know where my Bitties are, and I had such fun with them yesterday! BittyBubba is not exactly pulling his sister’s hair in this photo. It was more that he was stroking it, one strand at a time.



I asked him to lean his head in toward BittyBit’s. This is what the camera saw:



I’m going back for more, today! [No, he is not pushing his sister’s head; he is patting it.]

I have the leg done on the first baby sock; the heel flap is next. I’ve put it on a spare needle, carefully rewound the ball of yarn, and am knitting the second sock to the same point. Not sure if I have enough yarn to make two whole socks, and after Cuprit’s sweater I am hoping to avoid any frogging and tinking for awhile, so I will work back and forth on these socks until they are done. My last conscious act before crashing last night, was to wind a ball of contrasting yarn for the heels and toes if need be.

The kids and I have checked with three [count ’em, three] Post Offices, all of whom claim not to have the box containing my doll and some other goodies that Fourthborn ordered. How can one not-see a box that is 3’ x 1’ x 1’, more or less? [After I was Bittied-out, I picked up Fiancé, who had been on the phone all day, so I wouldn’t have to play “he said, she said”. He opined to the supervisor with whom I spoke on Wednesday night that the supervisor at another post office could not find his (shall we say) derrière even with a map and/or GPS. The good supervisor blinked, but did not contradict him. She also gave me more names and phone numbers to contact today.] I will be heading over that way, anyway, to pick up Fourthborn from work to go to a mini-meet in another suburb.

At this point, Fiancé and I are suspecting one of two scenarios (scenarii?): I fear that some officious bureaucrat has deported Cuprit; he thinks she might have been doll-napped, not by the letter carrier, but by persons unknown who saw the customs form and said “This box is worth how much? Wonder what’s inside.”

So at the mini-meet tonight, I will be the one knitting cute and adorable baby socks. Maybe the restaurant would let me draw a chalk outline of my missing doll on the banquette?