DIY Dad

Being a dad means doing household maintenance chores. At least it does in my book where being a dad equals being cheap and being cheap equals doing your own maintenance and repairs.

But I like do-it-yourself (DIY) projects. Well, I like DIY projects that I can do successfully. We recently bought a new, larger house equipped with new, larger problems than the old house. My comfort level of DIYness falls somewhere between changing light bulbs and installing a water heater. (Note to my wife: the water heater was an example of something I am not comfortable doing. I am not installing a water heater.)

The two older boys like to follow me around the house while I work. I put them to work when possible but they're still pretty young to be of much assistance.

The two-year-old can hold onto screws and bolts but he can also drop them into the labyrinth that is the backyard grass never to be found again. The four year old can drag small, cut branches into a pile and sweep the sidewalk. But his work quality isn't always stellar. I should probably talk with his supervisor.

But mostly what the boys add to the project is a lot of questions. And their questions are kind of  dumb. Well, they would be dumb if they weren't kids and seriously had no idea how things work.

“Are you going to use a hammer?” No, I’m not going to use a hammer to change the light bulb.

But what really gets me is the repetitive questions. The four-year-old asked “Are you cutting wood with the saw?” somewhere between three and 18,000 times while I was sawing a piece of wood.

The problem is the annoying and repetitive questions become intolerable when you’re in a knock-down, drag-out fight with the kitchen sink. This intersection, where innocently annoying questions meet intentionally stubborn plumbing equipment is a dangerous one.

And I find myself there often.

See, most of my DIY chores begin with me optimistically taking on the project, but then an unspecified amount of time into the chore (let’s say five minutes) becoming frustrated with the booby trap of difficulty hidden just below the surface of the problem. So, add the question, “are you going to use the wrench?” on repeat in the background while I’m busy stripping bolts on the faucet and someone is going to get snapped at.

This, of course, isn’t fair since the frustration that should be directed at the inanimate bathroom faucet is fired off at the nearest kid.

As much as I want to encourage the boys to learn some basic handyman skills I fear the only thing they’re going to learn while watching me do repairs is how to make people who are nearby feel responsible for the problem.

And maybe how to get really mad at a garbage disposal but refrain from cursing. Well, at least out loud.