Wednesday, January 29, 2014
There is one word that will strike fear and horror into the hearts of any parent.
One word, and anyone who has ever had a toddler child, you know exactly of which I speak.
Wait for it. Here it comes.
There is no greater pain a man can experience than stepping on a LEGO block with bare feet at 3 in the morning on his way to the bathroom.
As if the bone crippling pain from stepping on these colorful, easy-to-choke-on Scandinavian building bricks in the middle of the night isn’t enough. Now they’ve gone and made a movie about them.
A modern day Marquis de Sade, a former child I bet, has given these paramours of pain faces, voices, and personalities.
One of them is even Batman.
I have history with LEGO blocks.
My kids loved them growing up.
I hated them.
When I saw the LEGO Movie trailer over Christmas my feet curled up under my knees like the Wicked Witch of the East. I suffered PTSD flashbacks, phantom shards of pain shooting up the back of my legs when these diminutive plastic demons attacked in the dark wee hours of the night.
With LEGO blocks, you know the kids aren’t going to pick them up like you told them to and one stray LEGO always finds its way into the hall just waiting to throw itself under your bare foot.
When life was simple
When I was a kid life was simple.
We had Tinker Toys and Lincoln Logs.
There were two simple play rules: 1. Don’t poke your sister in the eye with the Tinker stick, and 2. Don’t let your brother chew on the Lincoln logs. Beyond that the play experience was pretty much pain free.
Today, these LEGO blocks come with uniquely designed corners and cylindrical pain nubs designed to inflict several kill spots into the foot causing multiple paralyzing points of agony to render the adult immobile and incoherent.
Bring the parent to his knees, down to the toddler’s size, eye-to-eye, and that’s when our children rise up, that’s when the revolution begins. They’ll turn on us.
With those cute little dimpled smiles and blonde tangles of bedtime hair they regard us with a cunning sparkle in their eyes, “Oh Daddy, you silly, silly man. Don’t you know this flow of authority is simply not going to work? Now, let’s talk about who’s going to clean our rooms, and whose idea was it to make us eat Brussel sprouts?”
I want to see the movie just to watch the parents and how they reflexively draw up their feet whenever one of those little red and yellow dervishes of destruction fly across the screen.
Did you know that LEGO has sold about 40,000,000,000 pieces – or 62 bricks for every person on Earth? I’ve probably stepped on a kajillion and a half just on my own.
Those forty kajillion LEGOS are enough blocks to build a LEGO tower to the moon, and I wish somebody would, and then leave them all there. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about stepping on them anymore.
I have a grandson.
One day soon he’ll want to play with LEGO bricks and he’ll want Papaw to play, too.
I am afraid. I won’t lie.
I don’t have the bladder control I used to.
One wrong step and… I shudder.
Now they expect us to sit through two hours of animated LEGO blocks?
To quote Marlon Brando in Apocalypse Now, “The horror… the horror.”
I bet it’s in 3-D, too.
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