Papaw, you are too picky!

Sometimes while working in the shop, I will show Landon how I do a certain thing or how I expect him to do a certain task. And, without fail, Landon responds by saying, "Papaw, you are just too picky!"

I usually laugh and tell him that we need to be picky if we want to do a good job.

"You see, Bud, you need to be picky if you want to be the best you can be."

"What if I don't want to be the best I can be?"

"Well, in that case you shouldn't go into business for yourself when you grow up."

"I want to have a horse farm," Landon said, "and a wood shop," he added.

On this particular day, I was trying to cut some box joints for a small box I was making for one of my granddaughters. I was having a hard time getting the joints to fit properly because they were turning out either too tight or too loose. After making yet another adjustment to my jig, I gave it another try. And, once again, the joints came out too tight.

Landon was watching closely and presently he said, "Papaw, I think you are just being picky."

"I have to be picky with these joints or the box won't look very good."

"Yeah, but you are way too picky!"

"I don't think so," I said, "I'm trying to get these joints to fit snugly but not so tight they have to be forced together."

I continued adjusting the jig while Landon looked on.

"Papaw, you can build me a box. And partners don't have to pay, do they?"

"I reckon that's how it works around here," I said.

Pretty soon it was lunchtime. We drove to the house to pick up Linda before heading to town for lunch. As we were on our way to Gentry, I asked Landon if he liked to eat at La Huerta.

"I'm not sure," he said, "Where is it?"

"It's right across the road from the Wooden Spoon."

"Oh, yeah! La Hoita! I love that place!" he said. "Papaw, are you going to pay me for working in the shop?"

"No, I wasn't planning to. Besides, I'm buying your lunch."

"But you're supposed to pay me when I help you."

"Well, I can pay you, but you will have to buy your own lunch. How does that sound?"

"I can't pay for my lunch. I don't have any money."

"Okay, I'll pay for your lunch," I said, "But I will not pay you for helping me in the shop -- at least not today. Sometimes you are actually learning and that should be worth something."

"But, Papaw, I am not your slave!" Landon said.

Linda and I both had to laugh. "Landon, do you even know what a slave is?" I asked him.

"Yes, it's when you hire someone to work for you and then you don't pay them!" he said angrily.

"But I am buying your lunch. That's worth six or seven dollars."

"Papaw, if you don't pay me, I'm not coming back to the shop after lunch."

"That's okay, I get more done when I work by myself," I replied.

Linda and I were still laughing as we pulled into La Huerta's parking lot. All of a sudden Landon said, "Papaw, this place is not right across from the Wooden Spoon! It's on an angle!"

"Landon, now I think you are being too picky."

"But, Papaw, you said I was supposed to be picky."

He had me there.

"I guess I did, didn't I? I'm going to have to start thinking about what I say to you before I say it. Come on, let's get something to eat."

Sam Byrnes is a Gentry-area resident and weekly contributor to the Eagle Observer. He may be contacted by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.

Editorial on 05/03/2017