He loves tools. Saws, hammas, skewdivas, piyas, tape measuas and booms.
He loves working in the yard, digging holes, and even picking up worms. Ewww.
But when I bought this kid a toy drill, you would have thought I hung the moon. Considering his admiration, I should have saved it for a more momentous occassion, like pre-school graduation, his first communion, or maybe his first Nobel Peace Prize. The only thing better than the love of his new power tool (it lights up! it spins! it makes noise!), was the fact that after he drilled his first nail into the tool bench, he said: "arr arr arr," just like Tim the Tool Man Taylor.
I think this goes beyond genetics folks because his father failed to hang curtains for at least the fifth time in his handyman career. Maybe it just skips a generation?