Homo sapiens has built, constructed, and assembled, ever since the first sapien attempted putting together two rocks with his phlegm. The powerful inborn trait first shows itself when children watch Dad build something with tools. This translates into a strong desire to participate, which leaves you with a decision to make: Do I want to have a stereo cabinet, or do I want to have happy, well-adjusted children? Well, you can have your cake and eat it too.

Gather up all the small pieces of scrap wood—boards and miscellaneous lumber—lying around. (Since you are such a handy guy, you should have plenty.) Lay them down in front of your children and explain that you want them to help you build the “framistan,” which is the most important part of the stereo cabinet.

They will beam with delight, tickled that you would include them in such important matters. Give them a small tool box with a hammer, nails, screwdriver, screws, nuts, bolts, wrench, saw, file, glue, sandpaper, and paint, and then watch their expressions go from tickled to ecstatic. NOW, you can alternate between completing your project and helping them with theirs. It might go something like this:

1. Help them saw three or four pieces of wood, then let them sand and file the rough edges.
2. Help them drill a hole and start a screw for them, then let them work the screwdriver.
3. Have them apply some glue (which they will be very adept at; you can be assured they won’t scrimp).
4. Help them hammer the nails.
5. Help them drill some large holes, supply them with bolts and nuts, and let them turn the wrench.
6. Give them a brush and paint to finish off—as you will tell them—the most terrific framistan ever made.

While my children and I stood back and admired the projects we had completed, I smugly gloated at the win-win situation I had created, until my oldest child asked, “Which part of the stereo cabinet does the famifam go into?”
I, of course, panicked, fearful I would have to look at it every time I watched television. Fortunately, my spouse stepped in and calmly told him, “The framistan goes in the back . . . to help organize all the cords.” Whew.