Best Dad in the Galaxy last-minute gluing
derby cars for those with mishaps.
And he is, perhaps.
I, on the way other hand,
bolted a cabinet hinge
to a spray painted wedge
and called it a day.
Sure, I watched a Youtube
suggesting science, so it was
half-heartedly hammered together.
But the point wasn’t for me
to take physics for the third time.
Nor was it for James to lose
So I did my best, sort of, since
the bandsaw was stuck in storage
and sanding is so messy.
I mean, we did our best.
A kid wearing a bad haircut and a canteen
comes over and I don’t flinch,
having been to enough pack meetings.
But I’m still a little nervous that
fuzzy science will fail us miserably,
assuming spare cabinet hinges
undermine aerodynamics and underwhelm
other dads, who pretend to be disinterested
as the race is about to begin.
But none of us are.
Once the action starts, almost
everyone’s on their feet. One car breaks,
and the delay is longer than rules allow,
but I could care less since it wasn’t ours.
Two minutes turns to ten,
and these guys really are earning
their t-shirt boasts. Another couple of
races, and all I can see now is asses
of moms and dads in glasses,
and I’m pretty sure science lost by a lot
in the one race I’d seen
between some legs, or maybe
science was sabotaged. By me.
Next year, I’ll just bless a block
of wood with holy water and wave
goodbye to science.
That, or the bandsaw and sandpaper.