Raph, sometimes you just have to fuck up to learn. So my Male parental unit was a mechanical genius. I had on old (‘75) Civic that burned more oil than it did gas and he tore into it and oversaw/taught me how to install new rings and bearings. He’d never seen a Honda before.
Flash forward a couple of years and I have non-functional 4 barrel quadrajet to rebuild. I’m tearing into it and he comes out, lights a cigar, shakes his head (this means ‘son, you’re fucking up, but I’m not going to tell you how, you have to just figure it out’) and turns to go back into the house when my dumb ass removes the top of the carb.

Little check balls and springs went everywhere.

They hit me. They hit him. they hit the ceiling and walls. It took me hours to find them all.

That fat asshole just stood there and guffawed.

The moral of the story is this: nobody is a mechanical genius. If you want to be Tony Stark, you are going to have a lifetime of fucking things up, building things that don’t work and spending untold hundreds/thousands/millions of dollars unscrewing your screw up.

It’s ok. Revel in your fuckeupedness. Like rebuilding drum brakes and carburetors, you’ll only make that mistake once.