I saw that the library was having a knitting class and thought it would be something Sarah and I could do together. It was advertised for ages twelve and up, and since Sarah is only eleven, I called the library and asked for special permission to bring her and was told I could.
Today was the class. The teacher started demonstrating and talking, and I felt lost, as I always do at these kinds of things. I'm not good at or interested in crafts and handiwork. But my Sarah was obviously hanging on every word and picked it right up with no trouble at all. Soon she had half a scarf knitted while I was still trying to figure out how to make a slipknot.
Somehow I got my yarn ball tangled up on the rungs of my chair, so I was bent over trying to untangle that for a good five minutes. When I came back up, with all the blood having rushed to my head to pound around in there, I saw a crowd of adults gathered around my daughter. She was patiently, confidently teaching them how to knit. She ended up going around kneeling in front of those who asked for help, which was most of the class.