Some Assembly Required

"Hand me the wing-nut," I say to my stepfather.

I hand tighten the bolt as much as I can, giving the frame structure without permanence. This gives me the option to fix it later, in case we're reading the terrible instructions wrong. The television spits a news story about The President's surprise visit to the Middle East to talk to troops.

"Now we should put the arms on," he assesses.

"No, that's not the next step."

He doesn't really look at the instructions. He knows how this is supposed to look from the picture on the box, to rely on a piece of paper to tell him what to do is below him. Today he yields to me for perhaps the first time ever assembling anything together in the past 17 years. Then again, I'm only here because he couldn't figure out the instructions in the first place. Maybe he realizes that I know what I'm doing.

This victory is small, but just as delicious as any other would be. Nearly every other conflict over the past two decades has ended with neither of us talking to one another for days, and occasionally the harsh confrontation that boils down to his lack of a job versus my disorganized room. I savor this triumph, and get back to the task at hand.

We start to assemble the main basin, burners, and electronic ignition. The living room is a silly place to build a grill. It's his comfort zone, and the only room he's used to anymore. It makes sense, in a way. Had I started the project, it would be outside from start to finish, and christened with a marinated try of caramelized veggies on a stick.

Maybe we're just opposite ends of the spectrum. I'm the young, well educated one and he's the old, stubborn one. I shouldn't expect someone to change their ways when they've had them set since before I existed. It doesn't mean that their ways are right, but it does mean that those ways have become correct for the daily behavior. The same way that "incorrect" and "wrong" aren't the same. To say it's wrong to drown kittens would be that it's morally unethical. TO say it's incorrect to drown kittens would be to say that you're better suffocating them, or lighting them on fire.

Today I am both right and correct, and I love every second of it.