I didn’t argue after that.
We went to the hardware store together. Ethan picked out wood, screws, sandpaper, and tools we didn’t already have. He asked questions, wrote things down, and double-checked measurements.
This wasn’t a kid playing around.
He had a plan.
For three days, Ethan worked on the project. After school, he dropped his backpack and got straight to work until it got dark.
Measuring. Cutting. Adjusting angles. Sanding.
I helped where I could—holding boards steady, handing him tools—but he led everything.
By the third evening, his hands were covered in small cuts. But when he stepped back and looked at the finished ramp, he smiled.
“It is not perfect, but it will work.”
