All LEGO’d Out

January 13, 2015 by Jennifer Carsen

file0001574867891It may be blasphemous to say this aloud (and someone in Denmark will surely be coming to clock me over the head with a frozen herring for doing so), but I am tired of LEGOs.

I know, I know – they encourage creative play and require no batteries and are among the innately quietest of children’s playthings, three things I can totally get behind.

But I assure you I was far from quiet yesterday when I slipped on a throw rug in Lorelei’s room – due, granted, entirely to my own clumsiness – and landed directly atop a half-completed LEGO Cinderella castle.

(Let’s just say James Frey would not have had to fabricate nearly as much of A Million Little Pieces had he been there to witness the explosive event – or the million little bruises currently in evidence on my backside.)

There’s just so much inherent incompatibility between those thousands of eminently lose-able tiny bits and the very fact of children, who would lose their own arms were they not firmly attached. Every once in a while the LEGO people throw in a few extra duplicate pieces for good measure (my secret theory is that even they have trouble keeping track of them), but those are never the ones that disappear down the cracks between the floor boards.

For over two years now we have eagerly been awaiting the day when Nicholas – aka The Boy Who Eats Staples – stops putting everything in sight in his mouth. We’re nearly there…but now he’s taken to putting mini LEGO tires (which he calls “black olives”) in his ears. I am just waiting for the day when we all rush to the ER and discover that what we think is a crashing ear infection is actually a tiny LEGO lightsaber lodged in his eardrum.

I am tired of stepping on them. I am tired of falling on them. I am tired of Nicholas festively throwing them around like it’s New Year’s Eve in Times Square.

I am tired of listening to them clank around in my vacuum cleaner when I accidentally suck them up. I am tired of bending down to pick up what I think is a stray piece of Meow Mix only to discover it is a teeny-tiny pizza that goes with a teeny-tiny pizza man yet cannot be easily wrested into his immobile plastic grip.

Constant vigilance, extra cleaning, heightened levels of frustration, the imminent probability of serious bodily injury. Maybe my main beef with LEGOs is the fact that they simply amplify all of the existing problems of living with small children.


No Comments

No comments yet.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.