Nailed It

Part of being a father is being able to build things. Whether it's for your kids school projects, or skateboard ramps, or the classic tree-house, eventually there are going to be things that your children need built. My dad had a garage full of tools (sawdust was the common aroma around the house). My best friend's garage had tools everywhere. It was a normal thing for our fathers to build us whatever we were into at that moment. It is something that I appreciate now and took for granted then.

Here's the problem with all of that: I am an IDIOT when it comes to tools. Never has this been more true than yesterday (but more on that in a second). It worries me that whenever Cassie needs a dollhouse built, I'm going to have to hire a contractor to come build it for her. Don't get me wrong, I try to do projects around the house and usually they get done. But they lack all efficiency and skill. The reason I try, even though I have no idea what I'm doing, is because when I got married a good friend of mine told me to just try. He said the only way I'll learn is to try. My friend who told me that was Dave and yesterday...Dave paid the price for that advice.

My wife is a 1st grade teacher and is in the process of getting her classroom ready for the upcoming school year. Jesse takes A LOT of pride in decorating her classroom. She wants her students to have an amazing 1st grade experience so she works tirelessly at making everything in her room perfect. This year she wanted to put a rocket ship in the corner of her classroom to serve as a place for her students to read - "launch into reading." Dave volunteered to help me build it - good friend.

Jesse and I bought the wood. I successfully cut all the 2x4's and Dave helped cut all the other wood. We took the wood to Jesse's classroom and to our surprise, and later dismay, some guys were working on another classroom and said we were welcome to all of their tools. Using their saw and nail gun was going to save us massive amounts of time. Dave grabbed the nail gun, I grabbed the nails and we were set. We laid out the wood according to how it was going to be built. We had a plan. Shouldn't take long at all.

The problem: I am an IDIOT when it comes to tools.

It came time to actually build the rocket. Dave braced the 2 pieces of wood that I was about to nail together with the nail gun. I placed the nail gun against the wood and fired away. The gun recoiled more than I thought. But as I looked, sure enough a nail was in place. Something didn't feel right, though. Dave yelped, held out his finger and told me to "look!". I immediately freaked out as I stared at Dave's finger. I had just shot one of my best friends in the finger with a nail. Dave had a nail in his finger and I was as white as a ghost. Dave was somehow smiling as he watched me freak out. We realized quickly that we needed to pull the nail out so we ran to the sink and on the count of 3 I pulled hard as I yanked the nail out of Dave's finger. It came out quickly with only a slight drop of blood. I was sure we were going to have to go to the ER but miraculously, and I mean miraculously, Dave was ok. The Lord saved Dave's hand.

Shaken, I sat down as Dave got a bandaid and continued to laugh at me. The owner of the gun walked in shortly after the incident and explained to us that he had recently shot himself in the leg with the same "cheap gun." Apparently the gun shoots a rogue nail every once in a while. THANKS MAN. THANKS A LOT FOR THE GUN! This fact did not make me feel better in the least. I held the gun. I fired the gun. I shot Dave. I will never be the same.

Sorry Cassie but from now on I will build everything with with legos or crazy glue.I hope that will suffice.

I'm happy to report that Dave is still my friend and though his finger is sore, he's going to be ok. I, on the other hand, and going to have nightmares for years to come.