"Try something different,"

I suggested.
A friend is knitting the same cardigan pattern for the third time. She doesn't like it and she told me, "It's boring but I know how to do that one". 
I know she will finish it but she gets no pleasure from her knitting. It is something she simply believes she should do. She makes socks for her husband. The pattern is always the same. The only thing that varies there is the colour - grey,  black, navy or brown. His  pullovers are the same.
Her work is beautifully crafted. Her knitting is far better than most of us could ever dream of but she still lacks confidence that she can do anything else.
Her husband asked me, "Can you do something about it? I'd love one of those things with the twists in it - you know, like rope. I'm sure she could do it."
I am too.  I left a little pile of Aran patterns for him at his place of work. I put them in one of those big yellow envelopes with nothing more than his name on the outside. He likes all of them and wanted to know which one would be the simplest to make. I showed him.
Yes, that one is particularly nice! 
And where does he buy the wool? I told him that too. He ordered the lovely pale grey. 
When it arrived he had a moment of doubt. He was planning on "just asking her" but was worried she might think he wasn't happy with what she had made.
So, yesterday I dealt with the matter. I arrived. He pulled the pattern and the yarn out of the boot of his car and we went inside.
I told T....how good her knitting was and then I told her how much he wanted an Aran but was worried about asking her in case she thought he didn't appreciate what she had made for him over the years.
She looked at me in absolute silence. I pulled the pattern out nervously and said, "He'd like this one...and here's the wool. If you run into trouble then I'll help."
She went on looking at me for a moment and then she looked at her husband.
I prowled out while they were hugging each other. Somehow I think he might get the Aran he wants - and much more.