Wooden Robot

Last summer we tried growing some tomatoes in pots along the fence in our backyard.  I built a little bench to set the pots on to give them a little better shot at catching the sun and to keep them a little farther from anything at ground level that may wish to do them hard.  The bench was built like most of my projects - spur-of-the-moment with no defined plans or materials.  It was a rickety contraption but solid enough for our purposes.  It nobly held our plants for the duration of the summer.  When I finally removed the pots last fall, the whole thing collapsed in a heap.  At some point during the course of the summer, the weight of the pots became integral to the stability of the system.  I didn't think to much about it at the time.  The bench had served its purpose.  I hadn't expected it to last forever.  I left the heap, figuring it may get resurrected next season.

Now that the snow has melted, the boys have begun spending more time in our yard.  N, in particular, spends much of his afternoon around the swing set or under the trees, seemingly anywhere the ground is muddy.  His explorations include rediscovering all the items that were left in the yard and buried for the winter.

A couple of days ago, he came inside holding an assortment of boards screwed together.  I instantly recognized it as one of the ends of the bench - two legs connected by a couple of cross pieces.  N held the piece like it was a prized trophy.  He smiled and asked me, "Do you know what this is?"  Before I could answer, he continued, "It's a set of robot arms, look."  With that, he pushed one bench leg and pulled the other.  The boards flex scissors-like.  He reversed his actions, all the while watching the boards and glancing at me.  "It's kind of like it's punching or something" he said.

I agreed that it did look a little bit like robot arms.  As far as I was concerned, this was as good a use as any I could have dreamed up.  If he wanted to play with the boards, it was fine with me.  Let him have his fun, stretch his imagination.  Go, play.  Enjoy the robot arms.  Everybody's happy.

Alas, life is never quite that simple.  Very soon after he had been given the okay to use the robot arms, he returned. 

N: "If we could attach one more board, this robot would be perfect."
Me: "I don't know bud, it's getting kind of late to start a project."
N: "Just one board!  It'll be quick!  I know exactly where it needs to go.  Then it'll have a body.  I can make a head out of paper later."
Me: "I think we should wait until tomorrow when we have more time.  You've got school tomorrow."
N: "I've been waiting to do this since you built that wooden robot with B.  That's basically my entire life!"

I barely remember building a wooden robot with B.  It had to have been about five years ago.  That would have made N around three years old.  Even though he had never mentioned it before, apparently he'd been waiting for his turn.  I relented, and we went downstairs to add the board.

As it turns out, an eight-year-old's opinion of where a board should be added doesn't always jibe with the basic laws of physics.  He showed me where he wanted the board.  I showed him why he might not want it there.  Together, we set about on an alternate approach for a robot body.  After about thirty minutes of pounding and sawing, the robot base was nearly complete.  As I finished attaching the last board, N approached me.

N: "Dad, I think I need to apologize to you."
Me: "Apologize? Why?"
N: "I didn't think you would be spending this much time on this."
Me: "Bud, you don't need to apologize.  We should be doing more of this.  Besides, it was kind of fun."
N: "Still, when I'm grown up, I'm going to owe you something pretty cool."

We brought the robot upstairs.  It's rickety, like everything I build, but he doesn't seem to care.  He took it to his room and set it next to his bed that night.  The next morning, he brought it down and set it on the counter while he ate breakfast.  It's in the backyard now, defending our home against imagined adversaries.

I hope that one day my boys are fortunate enough to build wooden robots with their kids.  Then they'll realize that it is I who owe them for a pretty cool experience.