Playing on my Mother's living room couch, he would stack up the cushions to make a "house" or "garage", over and over. Each time the flimsy structure would topple and I'd have to stop mid-conversation with my Mom to go rebuild it. Finally I had enough.
Noah: Mooooooooooom! My garage fell again, can you come rebuild it!?
Me: No Noah, just try yourself this time.
Noah: But, moooooooom!
Me: No, Noah! You have to build the garage yourself.
Noah: But I can't build it.
Noah: Because I don't have my license!
Well, at least he'll make an honest contractor someday.