And the opp to "work" with Dad, Grandpa, Uncle, etc. is special for the lil one too! Maybe because it's an environment enough different than hum-drum of daily routine experiences.
I can remember the walk through knee-high snow to Dad's shop, smell the pot belly stove burning over in the corner, hear the Blackhawk's game on radio, and always ringing in my ears, "put that tool away after you're done usin' it!"
Thanks for the picture, Matt. Brings back some memories.
