At 7:52 AM, my seven-year-old son announced he was ready to work on a big project. "Mom, come into the garage and help me make a go-kart."
"Seriously? Dude, you're still in your pajamas, and I'm trying to make breakfast!"
"Yeah. Come on. This won't take long."
I sighed and followed him into the garage. The parts were already laid out: a skateboard, the big box from our firepit, and Hello Kitty duct tape.
"Okay, Mom. You hold this skateboard here while I tape it to the box."
I patiently did my job.
When he was finished, we flipped the skateboard-box contraption over.
"Thanks, Mom. Now help me get this into the driveway."
"You're actually going to sit in this thing and ride it down the driveway?"
I shook my head. I picked up the weird concoction and placed it in the driveway.
"Watch this, Mama!" He sat in the box and rolled all the way down the driveway.
"Wow!" I said. "Now I bet all your friends are going to want one of those."
"Yeah. It's the best go-kart ever!"
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