As the dad of a middle school son, I loved this piece by Bruce Cameron. He very kindly gave me permission to include it on this website.
Assembling The Shed
Copyright 2007 W. Bruce Cameron
Dear Rubbershed Company:
Having run out of storage space in my garage for all the stuff we’re hanging onto so we’ll have something to throw away when we move, I recently purchased one of your high-impact plastic sheds, whose parts are intended to snap together into a piano-sized, weatherproof container in a process your advertising claims “takes no more than a fast and convenient 25 minutes!”
I decided to assign the task of assembling the thing to my 13-year-old son, under the theory that (a) he needs to learn basic carpentry skills, and (b) otherwise I would have to do it.
I thought you’d be interested to learn that the actual assembly took considerably more than a fast and convenient 25 minutes. In fact, it took my son a fast and convenient Saturday. Perhaps you should consider revising your instructions along the lines that I’ve detailed, below.
Your Step One: Open box and remove parts.
Son’s Step One: Stand empty box on end and throw rocks at it from back deck, making incoming artillery noises. Jump up and down on box until it is flattened. Attempt to use the box as a sled, trying to induce dog to pull you across the yard. Get on bike and go search for runaway dog. Put some dead wood under one end of flattened cardboard and ride bicycle over it, shouting “air time!” before colliding with tree. Put ice on cut lip.
Your Step Two: Determine that all parts are present.
Son’s Step Two: Set up roof of shed like a pup tent. Lie inside pup tent and use prop rod to shoot down the enemies. Set up walls like giant dominos and knock them down.
Your Step Three: Lay floor down and insert back piece into floor
slots, secure with rubber mallet.
Son’s Step Three: Set up floor and walls like a giant drum set and bang on them with rubber mallet. Use rubber mallet to crush some aluminum cans. Throw crushed cans into the air, yelling “pull” and shooting at them with the handle end of the rubber mallet.
Your Step Four: Insert left wall and right wall into floor slot, secure with rubber mallet.
Son’s Step Four: Attempt to assemble entire shed in a single step, slapping up walls, doors, and roof. Frown when everything falls over like a stack of cards. Reassemble entire shed, frowning when it doesn’t fall over like a stack of cards. Wade in and knock everything over like Godzilla taking down Tokyo. Report to father that construction is “impossible.”
Your Step Five: Slide left and right doors into hinge slots, secure with rubber mallet.
Son’s Step Five: Respond to father’s directive to “finish shed or
never eat another meal in our house” by lethargically kicking walls. Notice that rear wall has tabs which look suspiciously like they might fit into floor slots. Halfheartedly insert tabs into slots, blinking in surprise when the wall snaps into place. Duplicate the process with left and right sides, shouting “dude!” repeatedly. Put on roller blades and skate around the block.
Your Step Six: Insert Roof into side and back slots, securing with rubber mallet.
Son’s Step Six: Search for rubber mallet, which was right here a
minute ago. Find a tennis ball. Throw tennis ball at shed.
Your Step Seven: Insert prop rod into side slot. Your shed is now ready for use!
Son’s Step Seven: Find a baseball bat. Hit tennis ball over house. Trot around imaginary bases in yard, high-fiving teammates at home plate. Pound shed walls with bat, continuing assault long after they are seated into place. Use bat as a bazooka, destroying enemy tanks, airplanes, and velociraptors. Insert doors, repeating aggressive bat use. Respond to father’s inquiry about the pounding noise by explaining “stupid mallet got lost.”
Son’s Step Eight: Turn on hose and fill shed with water to see if it could be used as a swimming pool. Stand in yard for forty minutes, spraying hose at random, slack expression on face.
Son’s Step Nine: Respond to father’s demand to pick up the scattered tools, the hose, the remnants of the box, and everything else by packing it all into the shed.
(A final note: After all this, there is still no room in my garage
for my car.)
That is hilarious!
My son’s step 1 would have been to attempt to negotiate his fee for the assembly project. When negotiations would stall, he would insist that I should be sued for violating child-labor laws.
With a 2 year-old, I am seeing shades of this funny lesson. We assembled a kids sized picnic table on Saturday. Benny’s first (and only) step was to grasp a handful of wood screws and throw them to the wind. Needless to say, we were a few screws short of a picnic table. Which is the way I feel half the time, anyways.
Mike and how does that make him any different then you at that age? Good memories think when I could lead my (_________) team to victory over the Mighty Bruins of UCLA under the one solitary light in our backyard. Only to be waken by Mom yelling come in it’s 9:30 the neighbors are trying to sleep.
Ah, this brings back memories. I needed additional storage a few years back. I bought a small cheap package from Sears, which would require assembly, for $199.00. Hey, sounds easy enough. And look at all the money I’m saving. The picture on the carton matched the actual display; 4′ x 8′, nice trim, sliding doors…count me in.
When I got it home and opened the box there were trillions of untamed pieces lurking for escape. The instruction booklet came in four languages and just unloading the carton gave that sinking feeling only an amatuer tool man could identify.
I worked on it a couple of days; marked with wobbly aluminum siding and screws which didn’t match pre-drilled holes. The holes wouldn’t even align with the other holes. But, I was saving money!
Finally I called an unemployed friend and paid him $200 to finish what I had spent two days on. It took him three more days!
I sold it two years later for $50. Never again. Never again.
Wow, talk about patience. I would have used the mallet on my son.
Several years ago, I assembled one of those aluminum sheds from Sears once. While trying to insert a phillips head screw in one of the supports (while lining up the wrong holes), the entire thing suddenly flexed; and I wound up with a perfect phillips-head-screwdriver-shaped scar on the tip of my nose.
I no longer have the shed, nor the scar.
Clint, You must not have a child/early teen.
Mike, Having 2 grown sons, this brings back the years between 11 and 16(enticing them with a car helped to get lots of chores done after that—-at least for awhile!) That guy writes kinda like Dave Barry or Bill Bryson. Thanks for my giggle of the day!
Does anybody else read the comic strip “ZITS?” I am positive the cartoonist is peeking in at our life with a teenage boy.
This story would be perfect for that.
I am constantly surprised at how fun boys can be - at any age.
Mike, Dan Haught once told me that when one of his crews faces a difficult task he gives the hardest job to the laziest guy who in turn figures out the quickest and easiest way to get it done. Clearly the young man in this story was just too motivated.
My boys both got the engineering gene and would have probably had the thing up in less than 25 minutes. They can be difficult about some jobs, but not the ones where you get to put things together.
That is just great! Thanks Mike.
Hope all is well as baseball season gets into full swing.
Are you sure that you didn’t write this piece incognito, Mike?
I love this! It could have been my son!
I birthed only girls, but have a slew of grandsons and great grandsons. Deja vu all over again, as Yogi so famously says.
Thanks for a wonderful morning chuckle, Mike!!
I use to refinish furniture in my basement. I had 3 small children. I was always saying don’t get in the stain, stay away from the paint remover. Sanding paper is not a toy. But low and behold, one evening, there they all were helping me sand the drawers on a bureau. I took a picture of that event. I continued to work and they were asking questions and doing their best to help me. They are 40,38,and 37 today, but I pull out that picture every now and then and just smile.
My 15 year old son had stayed home from school a few weeks back…fever. Later in the afternoon, he was feeling better and aching to get outside some. so, he took his golf club and went into the field adjacent to our house to hit some balls. A few minutes later a truck goes by and off his truck and onto the street drops a can of black spray paint. too tempting not to investigate, my son has a curious thought. “I wonder what will happen if I hit this can of spray paint with my golf club.” A few minutes later, he comes into the house covered from head to toe in black enamel paint, to tell his mother what a cool thing she missed in seeing a can of black spray paint shoot into the sky like a rocket. It took every imaginable kind of cleaner and several hours to get most of the paint off. But oh…it was SO worth it. Boys are indeed a gift and a hoot.
annie, I am a contractor turned youth minister turned cripple contractor. I have two grown married “children” (unlike Mike I have no grandchildren), one boy and one girl. Believe me I know the patience it takes to allow a 13-year-old boy to have his way with a project.
Noticed that you posted about Sam Harris’ book ‘Letter to a Christian Nation’ in January. Just thought I’d let you know about the latest response by Douglas Wilson which getting great reviews with more to come. You can read more about it here: http://www.letterfromachristiancitizen.com/
Cheers,
Dave H.
Thank you for posting this. My mother, Janice Speaks, put me onto this little diddy. As the wife of a “do it yourselfer” and 5 year old and 3 year old sons, I feel it is only a matter of time before I witness something like this first hand. I needed a good laugh today. Thank you.
This reminded me so much of Landon and Tyler. and made me laugh. When we would ask them to mow the yard they would spend hours trying to figure out a way to move the mower from the back to the front yard by attaching it to their bicycles with rope and pulling it…. or letting the dog pull it…. They were masters at making an easy task take a long time.
Sorry, Clint. Being a Dad of two kids, AND a former youth minister, you’ve had lots more experience than I in being patient through chores & projects. And, my husband is a general contractor too—-a job that requires GREAT patience in overseeing projects that often don’t go as smoothly or fast as one would like. I think contractors have to put out almost as many fires as a true fireman. So…..accept my apology, please!
Clint, I would have used the mallet on my son(s), too.