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Every holiday season, my wife invites our grandson Scott to spend a weekend with us. She likes to keep him busy baking cookies and making crafts like paper chains and tree ornaments to clutter up the house. I usually find an excuse to work in my shop until the cookies are done and I can eat a few of the broken ones with a cup of coffee.
This year I wasn't in my shop long before Scott appeared at the door carrying some colored paper, scissors, paste and crayons. "Don't bring that stuff in here," I told him. "You'll just make a mess." Scott looked at the sawdust on the floor and the clutter on my workbench without saying a word.
"Well okay, come in," I groused. "You can sweep up my sawdust while you're sweeping up your paper scraps."
I guess I'm …