That story about how I got the hat pattern

I'm on my cell phone, in the middle of Purl yarns in NYC. My Sidekick is in LA. It's real crowded in the Purl.

"Hey, sweetie. Could you do me a favor? I'm at Purl with my brother, and I need to get some yarn. Could you check that issue of Knitscene for some information for me?"

"Which?"

"The magazine with the flamenco lady on the front. The one I blogged about. You know, the one that pushed past security."

"Oh, yeah. Got it."

"Could you tell me the supplies I need for that hat? What yarn and needles do I need?"

"Well, let's see."

"I think it's on page 20 or 23 or something." (I have a weird mind that sometimes remembers strange facts.)

"Central Park Hoodie?"

"No, no. The hat. With the earflaps. With the dude holding that bag with the circles on it."

"Oh, yeah. I got it. (Pause.) I want that bag."

"Could you just tell me what the supplies are that I need?"

"It doesn't say."

"What?"

"Oh! 'Instructions, page 60.' (Pause. Flip, flip, flip.) Here it is. 'Hear No Evil. By Katie. Himmelberg.'" (He reads this like he's about to read me a bedtime story.)

"Honey, I'm in the store. Could you --"

"Yes, yes. Ok. 'Size 19 inch circumference to fit head size 19 to...'"

My Sidekick kindly reads me the details of the kind of yarn I need, the gauge, and the tools. He tries to continue on with "terms used in this pattern", but I cut him off.

"That's all I need, sweetie. Thank you so much. I have to go now. I'm in the store."

"Ok. Hey! I think my cold is moving into my chest and turning into a cough."

"Ok. I'll call you later."

I'm realizing now that this is intended to be a story about how sweet my Sidekick is. But it may very well be a story about what a jerk I am. Huh. Well. Um.

Anyway!

My brother and I continue on with our business at the Purls, and I secure yarn and some lovely Crystal Palace extry-long needles (just for fun, not because the pattern required extry-long) so that I can start on the hat if I'm so inclined.

Oh. But wait. I still don't have the actual pattern. I don't know what I'm thinking.

Cut to: later that evening. I'm talking to my Sidekick on the phone. I'm at my brother and SIL's apartment.

"...So, then we came back, and we've just been hanging out. And I love the yarn my brother picked for that hat."

"What color is it?"

"It's lots of colors. And it's really, really soft. I'm sad."

"Why?"

"Because I was stupid and left the pattern at home. Dumb."

(Pause.) "I could read it to you."

"What?"

"I could read it to you."

"Come on."

"Why not?"

"Because you're sick."

Ok. Important detail: My Sidekick was able to read to me from the magazine because he was at home sick from work. Like really sick. Like boogers and coughing and not-feeling-good sick. And the dude is all, "I could read it to you." Can you believe that?

Now, what kind of partner would I be if I didn't take him up on it? Right?! Who's with me?

"Earflaps!"

"This is a new section?"

"Yep! It starts with 'Earflaps!'"

My Sidekick reads me this knitting pattern, line by line, not having any idea what he's saying even. I'm frantically writing it down on a little paper bag from the bead store. He's reading carefully and thoughtfully.

"Ok. 'Next Row. R. S. Big K two. Big K two togg.' Is that right? Two togg?"

"Yep. 2tog. It means knit two stitches together."

"Oh! Wait, wait, wait. They're mixing it up here. I don't know what they're doing, but now they've gone and put an asterisk in here. You know, like a star. Like BAM! There's a star! What are they doing?!"

Sorry ladies and gents. He's taken.