I grew up in my grandparents' house. All of the good in me comes from my grandfather. It was a 'tough' place to grow up, as a kid, with all the additional rules. But, as an adult, I feel like there couldn't have been a better place for me.
It would have been even better if my grandfather was a shooter, hunter, and reloader. Alas, an incident involving a bleeding deer carcass on the kitchen table and an irate wife (that already hated guns), and the murder of his brother shortly thereafter (with a pump action .22), resulted in him giving up anything gun related just before I was born.
My father, even with his mistakes and failings, did let myself and my brothers start reloading when we were young. When we could pull the press handle without being a danger to ourselves or others, we were allowed to help. When we could show safe loading procedures, start to finish, we were put to work loading .223 Rem.
My six year old son came into the reloading room a few months back, to see what I was doing. He's helped a little bit in the past.
He explained the steps as I primed a few cases, and I let him finish the lot. Then he went over them again as I threw powder charges and seated bullets for a couple rounds of .300 Blk subsonics. I let him take over. He loaded 8-10 rounds perfectly, with just a little extra guidance on how to align the bullets better with the Hornady sliding collar without risking finger crushing. I didn't even watch the rest.
He finished off the box.
I secretly fired them all a couple days later, so there would be no chance of injury to him due to a mistake of his that I missed. But, I also secretly reloaded the box, so that he can shoot them all the next time he and the Blackout are with me.
I think he'll get quite the kick out of shooting his own reloads. The .300 Blackout is also, after all, something he loves anyway. It's a "big gun" that he can shoot without assistance.