My three-year-old just conducted what might be his first feasibility study. He was hanging out in the workshop, eyeballing my big 3D printer, and then glanced at his Little Tikes Cozy Coupe. The gears turned for a second before he landed on the obvious question: “Daddy, can you print a car with that?”
Now, this isn’t your average desktop printer. It’s a beast—about four feet tall with a 24-inch cubed build volume. But even by those specs, printing an actual drivable vehicle is a bit of a stretch. Still, why crush a good idea with boring old reality?
So I went with it. “You know what? Let’s find out.”
I picked up his ride-on car, and set the thing right on the build plate. It fit with room to spare, which was pretty satisfying in itself. I hit a few buttons, the machine lit up, and the print head started moving around like it was warming the machine up to run.
My kid was locked in. He stood there completely mesmerized by the whirring motors and glowing lights. In his mind, the printer wasn’t just going through the motions; it was actively working on producing Car 2.0. No need to explain G-code or layer adhesion—the magic was in the simple belief that it could happen.
And that’s the cool part. Kids don’t see limits; they see potential. They look at a tool and ask “what’s the most awesome thing this could do?” It’s a good reminder to not overcomplicate things.
Did the printer spit out a new car? Of course not. But it built a pretty solid memory. And for a few minutes, in a shop smelling faintly of over-cooked PLA plastic, anything felt possible.