Original on Flickr as Pinewood Derby Cars.
“I’m not a bad dad just because I stink at pinewood derby.”
“Right.”
“It’s just like you’re not a bad mom just because you can’t sew.”
“Of course. I think the only one worrying about this is you.”
“My dad sucked at pinewood derby too.”
“Evan just wants to paint his car. He doesn’t even want to race.”
“But he did kind of yell a lot. Do I yell a lot?”
“Only a little.”
“There will be other cars slower and uglier than ours.”
“Uh huh. But it’s really not that important.”
I don’t believe any of this of course, any more than I believe that I’ll ever have enough saved to retire or help my kids through college or even pay off any debt.
The race is tomorrow, though it started when I was a Tiger Cub.
January 29th, 2007 at 10:45 pm
Some of the best memories I have of my late dad are those from the building of my brother’s Gremlin Pine Wood Derby entry. I don’t remember where it finished, but we had the sucker painted purple to match my dad’s AMC; we even had a little metal luggage rack on top. My brother and I played with it for years. I think my brother still has it, in fact.
January 30th, 2007 at 7:43 am
FWIW, my father told me, I inherited my lack of pinewood derby skills from him. He said, “It was always way too hard. The other kids’ dads were all engineers or construction guys with tools, and it was seriously competitive. We lost every year. I @#%!ing hated it. You were pretty mellow.”
It’s working out the same for my kids and me. I find it incredibly stressful, and I’m not sure it’s much of a bonding experience. But my kids had fun, and they actually didn’t finish last in any heat. Of course, they didn’t win any heat either.
It’s possible they’ll have the same fond memories as you.
Still, I think I will always fear and loathe it as a father.