This is EXACTLY how I feel about my yarn. I wind it a certain way. I sort it a certain way. Don’t touch my yarn! Please.
They’re my Crayons. I’ll show you exactly how to use them. But I won’t let you.
This is how my husband described my childhood issue with my Crayons. I think it’s pretty accurate. Let me explain.
As a kid, I loved to color. For the longest time, I got along with my little box of 16 measly colors (I was a spoiled kid), wishing I could color Cinderella’s gown Cornflower when all I had was Blue. Then one day my mom came home from a shopping trip with that magic box of 64 Crayola® crayons – the one with the built-in sharpener on the back. (I’m hearing a choir of angels right now just thinking about it.) I carefully opened the lid – how cool was that lid? – and beheld the majesty of the 64 different colors. Maize! I had a Maize crayon! They were packaged so carefully, with the crayons…
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The Paisley Carrot 