the little man

the parable of the legos

i'll be honest. when it comes to legos, i'm not a fan. they are tiny and inconspicuous and repeatedly vacuumed up by the dyson. they are easily lost in the carpet waiting to be stepped on by bare feet. they are completely irresistable to babies who shove them in their cute little cheeks (like a squirrel saving them for winter). and perhaps the most frustrating of all, they are impossible to store without breaking and falling apart. my organized mind likes the idea that the bricks are formed to resemble the picture on the box. but it never lasts. it annoys me to no extent. i have requested that john paul super glue those little guys together so there is no chance of them breaking. he quietly declined, which, at first, seriously bugged me. but i am beginning to understand. part of the fun is discovering what else it can be. after you follow the instructions and play with the ship/tie fighter/moon rover for a day or two, it will inevitably get destroyed. by a little sister who "just wanted to see" or a baby boy who doesn't know his own strength, or even a mom...who is tired of looking at them. (sorry.) but the joy comes from the newly discovered thing it can become. the thing you hadn't noticed or recognized at first. kind of like life. you find yourself in a far away place that had no obvious draw, with a small village of "mini me"s running around, still students in your 30's. not exactly the life i thought i would live. but oh so much better. so much more peaceful than i ever imagined. so pure. so fulfilling. so content. sometimes early in the morning or just before bed, i hear the click click click of legos and i smile, because i know any minute he will come find me, and show me what he has made. and when i say,"cool, buddy!" i'll mean it.

can you say "gene simmons"?

good times good times