It has been said that glitter is the STD of the craft world. I would pose that Legos* are a much bigger threat to humanity than glitter. Thanks to my dear, sweet children, they infest every nook and cranny of my house, hiding where I least expect it. I swear they breed and reproduce like rabbits. And unlike glitter Legos hurt like hell if you step on them. Glitter is essentially harmless.
In fact, I don’t need guns for self defense. I have thousands upon thousands of Legos.
But you know what? Legos are also a kind of therapy.
This weekend I spent about 12 hours organizing Lego parts into bins. You know what is sick about that? I really enjoyed it. Lego caters to a specific disorder: people with OCD hoarding issues.
“Mommy, why are you STILL doing that?”
“Why can’t you just dump them in that bin, mommy?”
“Why won’t you stop and play with me?”
“Why won’t you stop and eat?”
“Aren’t you thirsty?”
Someday, my children, you’ll be old enough and OCD enough to organize your Legos and THEN you will understand…
*I apologize to Lego purists who are no doubt reading this post, foaming at the mouth and cursing out loud for my use of Legos vs Lego.