- November 21, 2024
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The Kids Workshops at The Home Depot bring out the best in my kids. They bring out the worst in me.
You see, I’m not what they call “skilled” with following directions that depend on spatial orientation. Once I line up a nail, I can pound it with the best of them, but it often then needs “adjustments.” As in, it was put on upside down.
My 9-year-old daughter, Kennedy, knows this from sad experience. So, when I offered to help her when we arrived at the workshop earlier this month, she declined.
“Dad, usually when I do what you say, I have to tear it apart,” she said.
Therefore, she sat next to my wife, Hailey.
Luke, who is 5 years old and less picky about his final product — in this case, a wooden gingerbread house — got stuck with me as his helper.
The setup is genius. Both The Home Depot and Lowe’s do it: Free crafts for kids function as a tractor beam to pull in the parents. Parents develop some loyalty and goodwill to the brand, and probably buy something while they’re at the store.
The workshop tables are arranged in a long line down a lumber aisle at The Home Depot. Some non-workshop customers at the store might not like the deafening cacophony of 25 little kids pounding away with their hammers, but how can customers stay upset when they see the smiles on 25 little kids’ faces? It’s another example of an event creating a sense of community, a shared experience that reminds us all that we’re not alone.
“How am I covered in paint?” Hailey said suddenly. She lifted her forearm to reveal a long smear of thick, blue paint from a bottle that apparently had been overturned by an earlier artisan.
It was actually a great color on her, but now didn’t seem like the time to mention it, so I left our table in search of a paper towel. What I found was even better: The employees in charge of the event had planned ahead with a ready supply of wet wipes. Experience matters.
It was a good thing, because after Hailey’s encounter, Luke needed a wipe several more times due to his own spills while painting his gingerbread house. The problem was, he kept using the same wipe over and over, so by the end, the wipe was saturated: a wadded up rainbow.
All done, he slowly turned his house in a circle to show me his handiwork. Then he shrieked: “I forgot to paint this side!”
He rushed to slather on some more paint, ensuring that this thing would still be dripping as we got into the car to go home. Was it really worth it? Would he notice if I accidentally “lost” his house in the garbage can on the way out of the store?
Of course, that was out of the question. One look at Kennedy’s and Luke’s faces would show that they had just made another masterpiece out of a Saturday morning.
