Legos. I have a love/ hate relationship with legos. I think the pluses should be obvious; encourages creativity, fine motor skills, building skills, etc.

But the HATE? Oh, I have Lego hate.

First, I have been stepping on Legos for a decade now. I swear I am going to make flip-flops made of the from the Lego brick material, so that as I walk around I just add more height. I swear they hide in the carpet. I vacuum those little bitches up. Too bad, so sad.

But that isn’t the worst. No the worst is birthday and Christmas. My son only wants two things: Legos and Video games. Fair enough. So my husband decided to get Trace two BIG Lego sets for Christmas. And OBVIOUSLY he can’t put them together at his house, because they will break in transit.

OF COURSE THEY WILL.

So that means it is up to me to put those things together.

My son is interested in helping for the first hour or two, but by hour five hunched over looking for the smallest little piece known to man he has long wandered off.

There I am, on floor, holding some huge Halo flying creation, looking for a piece that I know he won’t even miss. It is then when I change my philosophy. My mantra goes from ‘follow ever direction down to the last detail’ to ‘close enough’.

My son is preparing the lego men for a  ’zombie attack’. I cannot make this stuff up.