Somewhere between wearing these simple ribbed socks for the first time to take these photos and washing these (so beautiful!) new socks for the first time, one of Reed’s toddler socks made its way into the dryer. (I think the zipper on the laundry bag wasn’t quite shut.)
Now I have one toddler sock and one newborn sock. It didn’t felt, but it did shrink. A lot.
I suppose I now have no choice but to shrink the other sock (hopefully it will come out the same?) and regift to someone with a baby. Preferably someone with a baby who knits and will appreciate just what it means to have a pair of hand knit toddler socks. (I think I have someone in mind…)
I fully admit that this photo shoot required bribery involving one “organic” lollipop. Before noon. I think this may seem equally scandalous as drinking before noon (mimosas and bloody marys are exempt, of course).
I used my leftover yarn from my Blueberry Waffles #2 socks and modified this free pattern that I used for Reed’s first pair of toddler socks by maintaining a 2 x 2 ribbing down the entire sock, hoping I would proudly be able to boast that I discovered the secret to hand knit toddler socks that do not slip down around busy ankles.
Knitting mothers everywhere would applaud with a joy never yet seen in the knitting universe.
In my mind, it made perfect sense that the tighter circumference resulting from the ribbing would grip his leg better. I don’t know why things always make more sense in my mind and less sense in Real Life.
While the slipping was reduced, I did notice (on their one and only wear) that they still slid down his toddler legs.
Reed and I spend an inordinate amount of time in the car each week, commuting from the Middle of Nowhere to work and preschool two or three days each week. This past week, I endured a solid hour of interrogation surrounding Why Did the Dinosaurs Go Extinct? (And the way he pronounces “extinct” is so adorable that it makes you want to have fifty more kids!) I patiently explained, time after time, how no one really knows for sure…scientists hypothesize an asteroid may have hit the earth…so much dust…no sun…cold…no food…and all the dinosaurs went to sleep and never woke up. My detail was so precise (and so repetitive) that I went hoarse. But why? Over and over again. I explained the whole dinosaurs extinction business so many times that I was forced to ponder this dominant hypothesis of sorts, my own mind finding the whole theory more and more ridiculous sounding and seemingly impossible with each rendition.
Whenever I finish a knitting project in the wee hours of the night, I always leave my yarn scraps out for Reed to discover in the morning. He loves them! He will come upon bits of yarn on the coffee table or sofa with sheer delight. For me? And he then proceeds to play with these strings of yarn like a little kitten. He fishes with them. He uses them as foundations for his ever-intricate Monster Traps. He ties the dog up (poor dog). He tucks them in his pocket like a little treasure, and I find them again when I put away the laundry, jumbled up with all the clean clothes.
I love this kid. I hope he wants to learn to knit someday (soon?!?). In the meantime, at least we had matching socks for one morning. It was worth it.