I'm Not Like My Brother

See, my brother is colorblind. It serves for enjoyable holiday dinners when everyone asks, "What color is that?" and then snickers when he says "Red" when it's really yellow. "Reddish yellow, I mean." It's side-slipping when things are "dark" or "light" just because he doesn't want to deal with our chuckles at his "disability." Now, of course he can see colors - but it's his 3 million to our 10 million.

But I felt like him over these past two days yarn shopping for a Koigu Premium Merino Wool to match my lucious pink. I can remember the color, right? Here it is...


Try #1: Downtown Yarns


Nope. Kinda dirty pink. And this was after going into Knit New York, seeing the same yarn [that I have realized in hindsight] and trekking down Avenue A to purchase what I THOUGHT was the right yarn.

Try #2: Purl Soho



Wrong again. And I even had the wonderful ladies at Purl wind 2 of my 3 skeins since I was so certain this was the right color.

Third time's a charm? I'm not so sure. Next time, I'll not only bring a swatch of the yarn [go ahead, reprimand me], but I'll bring my brother since maybe his colorblind eyes are better than mine.