I want Jerry to be a knitting boy. This might be a bad idea, because if he takes to it then I’m likely to experience mysterious disappearances of my stash of yarn and needles, but I’m going to try nonetheless.
He’s four, and has always been interested in very tiny things such as confetti and crumbs and other things that come in small bits. I therefore assume his fine motor skills are crazy good.
Jerry sat on my lap, I cast on for him, and we worked about three rows of ten stitches together. He concentrated hard, wasn’t wiggly, and seemed rather interested in the whole thing. We were done after that, but he said to me once he was settled in again playing with legos,
“When I learn to knit, I’m going to make daddy a sweater.”