I was the kid in shop class whose bird house looked like a bike ramp. Nothing I did was even, stable, or functional. But I was cunning. When the shop teacher would arbitrarily grab a nearby student's in-progress project and use it as an example, I would try to be that student. Then he could use the jigsaw, hammer, or drill on my project, giving me a more reasonable chance of passing the course.
Tonight at Cub Scouts the boys were given the task of building a herb planter from a wooden kit purchased at Lowe's. Unfortunately for Marshall, each of the boys was teamed with their father. Of course I was the only dad to forget to bring a hammer, so we were already behind. Then I had to read the five-step directions three times, putting us behind the pace. I wasn't surprised when our planter was crooked, put together in the wrong order, and had nails sticking out.
Marshall did a good job, and I helped correct our mistakes, feeling badly that I didn't forsee some of the challenges so his project could look better. On the way home I tried to tell him the story of my frustrated legacy, but he cut me off with, "Nobody's perfect, dad."
What did he care? He got to work on a project with his normally-preoccupied father, and had a gift to give his mother. On the way home he asked, "Is it Mother's Day yet? When is her birthday? Can I give it to her for Thanksgiving?" When we got home Paula was clearly exasperated with all the packing for vacation, but I was glad to see her great instincts kick in--graciously thanking Marshall for the imperfect project he presented from behind his back.
John, I came by to read about your voting experience today, but wanted to read this entry as well. It is amazing how our kids value our time together, rather than material gifts, and it makes me think about the value of many kinds of relationships.
Posted by: Jamie Sheridan | November 04, 2008 at 12:45 PM
yes, indeedy! thanks for reading.
Posted by: johnvano | November 04, 2008 at 11:40 PM