I haven't figured this out yet . . .
Sometimes I wonder how my son is my son. I mean, I know he’s my son, but we’re just so different sometimes. Today, for example, I had to run to Lowe’s to get some picture hangers. I knew G would be excited to go because he loves to go to virtually any kind of store, but Lowe’s is tantamount to the toy store in his eyes. For me, on the other hand, it’s like going to the grocery store; it’s necessary, but it’s not fun.
The whole way there, I listened to G talk about the “building store,” because he knows that’s where you go to build stuff. It’s nice to see a child’s wonder at work, but I can only fake my excitement about a clamp or a toolbox for so long. It certainly makes it difficult to get to the aisle you want to go to when you have to stop every three feet to gawk at a tool.
I don’t get that excited about tools. I’m pretty sure I’ve never been as excited about tools as G is. That boy is always ready to build something.
But of course, tools are always trumped by machines. It’s nearly impossible to pull G away from a store like this, until you mention the sit down mowers they have outside. G could have easily forced me to spend an hour in the store, otherwise.
It’s a little disappointing that my son will want to learn about all kinds of tools and my tool knowledge is very basic. It’s more likely that he’ll end up teaching me what a tool does than vice versa. But the prospect of him teaching me, or us learning something together, makes me giddy with anticipation for future father/son bonding time.
Hopefully neither of us will lose any appendages one day while playing with a chainsaw or drill.