This evening I did something that, I hope, will reap plentiful returns in the days to come.
I taught Thomas how to change the batteries in a toy! Woohoo!
Not that I do much battery changing at my house. That job would fall on my Dad. I know. Pretty sorry of me, huh? Since my parents started keeping the kids for me a couple of days a week, that has become my Dad's calling card around here. I come home from working in the library, and I can tell that he's been at my house all day, because every single toy is now flashing, beeping, rolling, and singing. ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Did I mention that I don't like changing batteries?
I really think, though, it's more than just the noise-maker aversion that I have. It's actually more of an aversion to tools of any sort. That's why when I changed the overhead bathroom lightbulb (that requires using a screwdriver) the other day, my husband acted completely shocked. Very pleased, but shocked, nonetheless.
I'm pretty sure this aversion goes all the way back to when I was in the tenth grade. That's the first time I can remember using a hammer (in the way it's supposed to be used). My geometry class had to BUILD, from scratch, a miniature golf course in the gymnasium. From that point on, I think I just developed this association between tools and math. That would make both of them very bad things. (Don't tell Thomas. He likes math. I'm the one that cried when I found out that even English teachers-to-be have to take math in college. Yes, I cried. Seriously.)
So, anyways, the aversion continued into adulthood. I was slightly broken of it when I married into my husband's family. They are some of the most tool-lovin' people I know. (Did I mention that my sister-in-law is a MATH teacher by trade? Uh-huh. See?) Not many years after we were married, when my in-law's were building their screened-in porch, my husband and I drove over there one afternoon so he could help with the construction. I brought my bathing suit because I thought the ladies would be spending the afternoon by the pool. Boy, was I wrong. No sooner had I arrived, and Grandpa Joe handed me a paint brush and told me to get busy. I recall telling him "Oh, I don't paint." (I cringe now when I think about that. But it was true. I had never used a paintbrush!) He looked at me pretty incredulously (I'm pretty sure he laughed at me, as well) and said something like "Well, today you are!" I know he was wondering what kind of lazy bum his grandson had married! But, paint I did, and, surprisingly, I've even helped Travis a few times since then! Needless to say, my aversion to tools was somewhat overcome that day. But not enough to start walking around my house with a screwdriver in hand.
Which is exactly why it's time for the six-year old to start learning how to use some basic tools! So this evening, we had some fun learning about batteries and "Tighty righty, Lefty loosey." The less I have to touch a screwdriver, the better! :)
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