Let’s hope that some abilities skip a generation.

When I was growing up, my father had his workshop in the basement, and always was doing some project around the house. My mother was usually in the middle of some sewing or craft.

None of it stuck. I’m mechanically inept when it comes to household renovations or repairs, much to my wife’s frequent annoyance. I try, but my mind just doesn’t work that way. I have no instinct for it.

We’re determined that our two children will know better. That’s why we avail ourselves of the children’s workshops held at Home Depot at midmorning the first Saturday of every month.

At these workshops, which go on for several hours, parents start by signing up their children. Then the kids receive an orange (natch) apron and that month’s woodworking kit. Each family then takes their place at a workstation or table, each of which is equipped with all the tools they will need to complete that project.

The kits are designed for children to build, with various degrees of parental assistance. But it isn’t always a smooth process, as the workshop held earlier this month proved.

The project was a (deceptively) simple-looking sled, made up of only seven wooden parts and a length of twine. Still, not everything went according to the enclosed directions.

We usually get the projects well under way for our children, then have them finish, as much as they’re willing. My 8-year-old daughter wants to do it all herself, until she doesn’t, at which point she wants immediate help. My 4-year-old son is an enthusiastic worker, and his pieces often bear that distressed look much favored by interior designers.

This month, however, the project plans themselves were flawed (and don’t give me that old saw about a good carpenter not blaming his tools). In this design, four spacers set at premeasured intervals were to be nailed onto the sled’s runners. However, the 1/2-inch finish nails provided for that task (too small for most adult fingers to hold) had to be inserted at just the right angle in order to even penetrate the wood of the runners. Longer nails, or even wood glue, would have more readily accomplished the task of affixing the spacers.

The next step, attaching the sled top to the spacers with longer nails, was easily managed. All that needed to be done to finish the sled was to thread the pull cord through holes at the front of each runner. Or, more precisely, to push a rapidly unraveling piece of twine through a pinhole. My wife neatly took care of this obstacle by using a nail, needlelike, to push the twine through.

Sometimes I muddle through a project, step by painful step. Other times, as on this date, my wife can’t watch any longer and exasperatedly takes over, so that we can get done before lunchtime.

Then there’s the clowns (there’s got to be clowns). The Anah Temple Shrine clowns add to the pageantry of the events, creating balloon animals and helping out harried parents however they can (you know you’re struggling when a clown is laughing at you). Our pair usually abandons their kits before completion, so they can chase down a clown to order a custom-made balloon sculpture. (We finish up, with little protest.) We pick up special certificates and pins for that project on our way out.

So how much are our children learning through these workshops? We’ll know better as they get older. At least they won’t be intimidated by hand tools (or clowns, for that matter). And that’s the first step to becoming future home-renovation whizzes.

Dale McGarrigle can be reached at 990-8028 or dmcgarrigle@bangordailynews.net.