So, this idea popped into my head a while back. My kid, you know, started really getting piles of books. Everywhere. On the floor, under the bed. I thought, they need a proper spot. Not just some shelf from a store. I pictured this little reading nook, cozy, just for them. It felt important, like something a dad should do. Maybe you’d call it a father’s dream, a small one maybe, but it felt big to me.
Getting Started, Sort Of
Okay, so I decided I’m gonna build this thing. Gotta be honest, my woodworking skills were pretty much zero. I watched a bunch of videos online. You know the ones, where guys make these amazing things in like, ten minutes flat? Yeah, right. Made it look dead simple.
I sketched out a rough idea on some scrap paper. Looked easy enough on paper. Headed down to the hardware store. Man, that place is confusing. So many types of wood. Ended up just grabbing some pine boards that looked okay and a box of screws. Pretty sure the dude working there could tell I was completely lost.
The Messy Middle Part
Got home, cleared some space in the garage. Pulled out my old hand saw. Measured the first piece. Made the cut. Totally crooked. Measured again, more carefully this time. Cut again. Still looked off. My saw was rubbish, plain and simple. Had to swallow my pride and go knock on my neighbor Dave’s door to borrow his decent saw. Felt a bit like a kid asking for help.
Managed to get the basic box shape together after a lot of sweating and swearing under my breath. Then I tried putting in the first shelf. Measured wrong. Rookie mistake. When I tried screwing it in, the wood just split right down the middle. Ugh. That really got me down. I just walked away from it. Left the whole mess sitting there in the garage for nearly two weeks.
Every couple of days, my kid would ask, “Daddy, where’s my book house?” Talk about a guilt trip.
Finally Pushing Through
My wife suggested maybe just buying one, or hiring someone. But nope, I was too stubborn. I started this, I wanted to finish it. Dragged myself back to the garage. Took the split piece out. Sanded it down best I could. Used a ton of wood glue and clamped it tight overnight. Next morning, it looked… okay. Not great, but it was holding together. That was good enough for me.
- Measured the rest of the shelves. Double-checked. Triple-checked.
- Cut them slowly.
- Drilled pilot holes this time so the screws wouldn’t split the wood again. Learned that the hard way.
- Got everything assembled. It was definitely a bit wobbly if you pushed it.
The Finishing Touches
It looked kinda plain, just raw wood. Wanted to make it special. Found some old cushions in the attic, gave them a good wash. Bought one of those little stick-on battery lights to put inside, like a little reading lamp. Then came the painting. Kid loves blue, so blue it was. Painting took forever. Got paint on my clothes, on the garage floor, probably in my hair. It wasn’t a professional job, that’s for sure.
The Moment
Finally, it was done. Or, done enough. Hauled it upstairs into the kid’s room. It looked… handmade. Very handmade. Definitely leaning a tiny bit to one side. But I wedged a little piece of cardboard under one corner. Perfect!
Called the kid in. Their eyes just went wide. Didn’t notice the wobble, didn’t notice the slightly messy paint. Just scrambled right into the nook part with their favorite book and switched on the little light. Didn’t say much, just looked super happy.
Worth It.
Watching them curled up in that little space I built? That felt really, really good. It wasn’t about building some masterpiece. It was about the effort, the trying, the fixing mistakes, and seeing that little face light up. That little wobbly bookshelf, built with my own hands, full of flaws? That’s the real stuff. That’s my small father’s dream, right there in the corner of the room.
