“Hi, My
name is Joy, and I genuinely fear and hate Legos. They have completely taken over my son (and
daughter!), my house, and my life, and I just can’t seem to manage to dig out
from under them. Every time that I think
I might have things a bit under control, those little plastic things (surely
invented by the devil’s minion) emerge and prove once again that they are the
boss of me. And I’m thinking that maybe
I should just wave the white flag and surrender because I don’t think that I
'm ever going to have a chance in hell of winning this battle.
I’m just not strong enough.” *insert sobbing here*
I have this
little theory that I’m now sharing with you that is probably born out of my
frustration with Legos. I am almost 150%
convinced that the makers of Legos are secretly working with alcohol/wine
manufacturers in order to boost revenue.
I mean, the two totally go hand in hand.
And no, I’m not exaggerating in the least, and yes, I’m very serious
here. I used to have a nice area rug in
my bedroom, but now it is full of little hazard called Legos!
What the *insert
bip here*!?!?!?!?
Just in
case I haven’t proven my theory to you quite yet, here are a few more arguments
that will hopefully swing the vote in my favor.
I don’t want a hung jury here.
a. The Pain Factor
On more than one occasion,
I have walked into a room to say something to my kids only to wind up yelling
expletives at the top of my lungs after the bottom of my bare foot has been nearly
punctured after unknowingly stepping on the infamous Lego mound. And every time this happens I feel like I
need a glass of wine to numb the throbbing, and also to calm my nerves due to
the fact that I am well aware that I’ve just said the “F” word very loudly in
front of my 4 and 6 year old and I know
that they’ll choose to repeat it at the most inopportune time.
b. The Aggravation
Factor
My son loves to build all kinds of “stuff” out of Legos. And every time he gets whatever “stuff” he’s
making almost completely put together, one of those famn’ pieces snaps off, and
then when he tries to snap it back into place, his entire creation breaks
apart. And then he gets really frustrated and screams like a banshee,
and then that makes ME extremely frustrated FOR him, and then I just really
feel like I need a glass of wine or seven or even eight!
c. The Time Factor
Every time that my son gets
a new set of Legos (thanks to the grandparents who don't seem to understand when I tell them that they have more than enough Legos), there is some sort of perfect picture on the outside of the
box of whatever the contents inside are supposed to build.
Of course the age range on that box may say 4 to 7,
but the conspirators over at Lego know very well that my 6 year old is not
going to be able to follow the little pamphlet of instructions included in the
box in order to build the hero factory, boat, or whatever the hell else is
pictured on the front. They are also
tuned into the fact that my 6 year old will fully expect me or my husband to
put the entire thing together. And they
are also fully aware that this will piss us off to no end because the damn
thing takes FOREVER to build and sometimes it is virtually impossible to
identify the pieces that are pictured on the instructions. And then when one of us can’t manage to put
it together, we call in the other party for assistance, and then we wind up
fighting over which piece goes where, etc., and then by the time one of us
figures it out and does manage to put the vehicle together, our son has
completely lost interest and has moved on to something else, or dear daughter
decides to go behind our back and play Godzilla and therefore destroys
everything in a blink of an eye! And then we wind up needing a really stiff mojito
to get out of our respective funks.
See what I
mean? It’s all a conspiracy.
So Arthur’s
Birthay is in a bit more than a month… So PLEASE PLEASE, if you ever wanted to
buy him a gift (and yes I’m pointing my finger at you My Dear Brother), don‘t
ever consider buying another set of Lego or I swear, revenge will be sweet… You
know just sayin’…
No comments:
Post a Comment