"I found this in the charity box. Don't you want it?" A middle-aged woman asked her teenage son. She held a sweater.
That thing she wants to know if I want that thing? Andy wondered. She needs to get her eyes checked. Why would anyone want that weird thing? The sleeves are too long, the body's too short, the turtleneck's too wide and the colour...I'll go blind. "That, ah, no, I don't want that."
"Do you remember who knit it for you?"
"Great Aunt Margaret," they said together.
Great Aunt Margaret had appeared on the scene mere weeks after dear old Dad flew the coop, Andy recalled. Appeared like a tornado appears on the prairies--you can see it coming, but there's nothing you can do about it. "She was a strange old bird."
"Andy!"
"Come on you can't deny she was a little off. That sweater is proof. And you--"
"Yes?"
"You made me wear it."
"It made her happy."
"Yeah, too happy."
"What do you mean?"
"I think she knit it like that on purpose," he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
They burst out laughing.