So I’m back home from Paris and when I fetched you from school after coming straight from the airport, I might have cried as soon as you jumped into my arms (sidenote: you’re getting really heavy). You told me you had missed me, and then a bit later asked for your presents.
I gave you your LEGO, Kinder eggs and little aeroplane, and you excitedly exclaimed that you couldn’t wait for me to build it with you. Er, I should come with a warning label or disclaimer that I don’t build LEGO. I mean, I can do the basic figurines or sets, but nothing that involves more than about 15 pieces. It’s part laziness, part “I can’t do this”, part “I don’t have the patience”. And yes, I know it’s *just* a LEGO set, not surgery.
So we got down to it. Piece by piece, page by page of instruction.
You were an excellent helper – finding the correct pieces, and helping me figure out where they went.
And things began to take shape. And I got irritated at times, and lost my patience, and tried to take short cuts. I made some mistakes too, and as a result, nothing would fit well. Once or twice, I had to dissemble and start over. But the pieces eventually came together, and we produced some cool things.
Does any of this sound familiar? See, this is not only a post about LEGO building and how we eventually cracked it. It’s about something bigger – life, I guess. Taking things step by step, following directions where necessary, not taking short cuts, persevering, rebuilding, building, piecing things together, patience, applying oneself.
There are such big lessons for me in such little pieces. It’s just what I needed right now – I’m feeling a little slumpy and a lot dumpy.
PS: I still have another LEGO set that I ordered locally stashed away. I ordered one from here, and one from France, just in case either of them didn’t arrive in time. I’m saving it for the next time I go away, but just like the box of Lindt balls in the same cupboard, temptation is screaming.
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