the mastery of parents or "can we fix it!?"

when i was little i could always go to either my mum or dad to get them to fix, repair, untangle, make good or otherwise return subject item to said purpose and use. it's the unshakeable belief of kids that their parents are able to do anything. untangle a ribbon or a shoelace- done, bike chain come off- back on, button fell off- sewn on, tree house needs a roof- built, walk on water- easy!

not only that the repairs could be made (space shuttle got a clonking noise? send it over!) but that they could be done immediately. or at least immediately enough that my memory says it was done that way. there was always time to address my and my brother's demands.

these magical feats of ability are a part of raising percy that i'm not looking forward to. i'm not terribly handy with a needle and thread or a hammer and nail, nor paint, nor hair elastics, nor any crafty, creative thing really. will my near god-like position be in tatters when percy comes to me with a some busted toy or heaven forfend- animal, and expect me to fix it, only to experience failure?
i'm not familiar, beyond the catch phrase, with the child entertainment juggernaut of "bob the builder." however i did work as a town planner while bob carr was nsw premier. the title was affixed to him too. so i know this idea of building and fixing. i'm also a wanna-be inner west dwelling environmentalist so the message of re-use, re-cycle is firmly in my firmament.
will i struggle gamely with busted arsed whatever it is? patching and plastering, to hand back to my sceptical off-spring with a smiling "ta-da!" only to find my handiwork stuffed down the back of the lounge months later because she knew it was busted arse and no amount of "ta-da!" was going to change that, yet she was too sweet and polite to tell me to my face. so she hid it, hoping we'd both forget that miserable attempt. (unfortunately i do get around to cleaning behind the lounge at least once every six months.)

but not yet! not yet to face the humilation of defeat and the tumble from mount olympus! percy presented me this morning with a book that has pieces one can pull and push to make animals move. she'd deftly amputated some tails and legs. even in my compromised state of being only dressed in a towel with a toothbrush in my mouth i re-attached those tails and legs, perhaps a little sideways, such that animals could once again hop and bounce and wag and run for her pleasure.
i am parent, hear me roar!