Not knowing about the curse of the boyfriend sweater, I regularly knitted for LB before we were married.
The first thing I knitted for him was a dickey. Yes, I really did. Then I knit another one. Later, he got several shawl-necked sweaters. The unifying theme here being a tendency to get a cold neck.
Still, it wasn't until 3 years into our marriage, after I'd been knitting for him for a long time, that I finally made him a pair of socks.
I felt about socks the way some people feel about the boyfriend sweater. To me, socks are a major commitment. I could never make socks for a complete stranger or a secret pal. I only rarely will make socks for a baby, and not having received any thank you for the last pair, I'm unlikely to make any more of those either.
The sock monkey socks, being the second pair for LB, marked a further commitment, but because I'd given them to him in the summer, he hadn't worn them enough to meet my non-verbal feedback and validation needs.
So, I finally asked, "How are the sock monkey socks working out for you?"
"They're dirty," he said, smiling impishly, "I need more."