So that's why you have an uncontrollable desire to buy yarn...

That Darling Resident Marxist Curmudgeon--when he's not busting my chops about turning up the burner too high when I make the Kiddie-Winkies their lunchtime Spaghettios or hovering outside the bathroom door in order to monitor the amount of water I'm using when I take a shower, he's making me laugh hysterically with his Dr. Freud routine. Why, just take the above-pictured half-torn ball band that he found stuffed underneath a cushion on the sofa. Examine it closely, notice its, umm, rather unusual shape? Does it suggest anything that Freudian types like my husband might find a tad telling when it comes to a gal like me who is ruled by her compulsions? He now claims that he finally understands why I'm so deeply compelled to buy yarn. Love that guy, seriously.
Tomorrow we're off to the Stitch 'N Pitch in Pittsburgh, it should be loads o' laughs. Anything with an 'n in the title that promises free knitting swag has my attention, can't wait!