A wall, a ball, and a sock that's small

Finally, our first wall. May not look like much, but it took two days of fussing and cutting and hammering and, in my humble opinion, more than my fair share of bendy nails. Matty kept himself busy at the construction site by hammering his initials (or Morse code messages) into the studs with his toy hammer, absconding with the tape measure, and throwing nails. Eventually we brought out the kiddie pool and the hose and things went a little better . . . right up until the dog bit the garden hose and turned it into a soaker hose. Tomorrow we will attempt walls 2 and 3, which are smaller and have no windows to frame.
Tonight was Tball, which is all sorts of fun. First there is batting, which is a collage of golf swings, fishing casts, fly swatting and -- every once in a while -- a swing that actually belongs in a ball game. Tonight's special maneuver involved a batter bonking his own head on the follow through. Fortunately, the players all wear special batting armor to protect themselves from this sort of thing.
Next, there is fielding which looks like this:
and this:

for a very long time.
Some of us occupy the time by creating "dinner art."

Others knit. Only certain items are suitable for Tball knitting. Plain sock = good game knitting, as it is simple and relatively error-proof. (note the emergency stitch marker cleverly made from an overly long fringe on the picnic blanket we were using)



Lace sock = bad game knitting: it requires my full attention and mistakes usually bring on language that might not be suitable for young ears.

What I still can't explain is why the sock on the right, which has more stitches and is meant to fit my giant leg, is SO much smaller than the sock on the left, which is intended for an 11 year old foot.