A teenage boy with a Mohawk sat across from me, sneering. I’d seen that look before. Why was it a problem to knit in public?
“My grandma knits.”
I ignored him.
“So what are you making, Grandma?” Mohawk’s voice was ugly.
I arched my eyebrow. “A cashmere cock ring. Your grandma ever knit one of those?”
The kid’s eyes grew wide, and he suddenly became very interested in a four-year-old issue of Teen Vogue.

Author: Leslie Langtry

A teenage boy with a Mohawk sat across from me, sneering. I’d seen that look before. Why was it a problem to knit in public?<br />“My grandma knits.”<br />I ignored him.<br />“So what are you making, Grandma?” Mohawk’s voice was ugly.<br />I arched my eyebrow. “A cashmere cock ring. Your grandma ever knit one of those?”<br />The kid’s eyes grew wide, and he suddenly became very interested in a four-year-old issue of Teen Vogue. - Leslie Langtry

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