There is a long backstory to this which I shall expunge in the interests of brevity and everone's sanity.
Back when I was about 15, my Dad got this notion in his head that he should learn to play the mandolin. So were sitting chatting one day when he pipes up and says "Son, I want you to teach me how to play the mandolin." Now, I wasn't any Jesse McReynolds or Bobby Osborne, but I could play a bit so I said "OK Dad, I'll try". So we started. Now, I have to give him credit, he did work at it and really made a legitimate effort. After about a month, when he had progressed to the point where he could kinda hold the pick and make some kind of scratching noise across the open strings that made the dog howl, I looked at him and said "You know Dad, this isn't going very well, maybe we should do something different". Looking incredibly relieved he said "Well I don't really want to give this up, what do you have in mind". Trying to look contemplative (as best a 15 year could do), I said "Why don't you and I build me an electric guitar".
He pondered for about two seconds and said "Yes, I think we could do that". So we did ... ergo my first electric guitar. 'Course I didn't do any of the work and it turned out quite well. LP clone. Played it for years.