Womb and Bored

Womb and Bored

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

L'eggo my Lego

Screw gun control...if you want to lobby for a real cause it's Lego control.

Yes, you read that right.

Those f'ing rectangular prisms are what is wrong with the world.

If you are wondering what I'm talking about, you obviously don't allow children to exist in your realm.

Have you ever stepped on one of those interlocking blocks of hell?  If so, you know exactly what I'm talking about.  I would compare it to birthing a porcupine dripping in hot sauce.  It's a fucking nightmare.

At least with needles and swords, kids know to keep those bastards off the floor.  Not that I let my kids play with needles and swords...anymore.  But with Legos, they always seem to be right where you don't want them.  And those hell blocks are virtually indestructible.  Somehow they manage to find their way to the sweet spot on your foot.  Every.  Fucking. Time.

I know, I know...  They cultivate thought and creativity.  But, fuck, truly what difference do smart kids make...really?  Honestly, if you ask any grown adult what they remember about legos from their childhood, odds are, they aren't going to recall the amazing buildings or rummaging through the box to find the perfect piece.  They are going to remember stepping on one of those inanimate pieces of HADES.

Besides stepping on them, let's discuss the many other ways Legos ruin my life.

Whenever my kids get them out to play, it means I'm going to have to help.  As much as I love my five-year-olds, those heathens can't build a fire breathing dragon out of 10 mm blocks no matter how wonderful the pictorial instructions are.  So, I am forced to take the book out and help them locate the pieces.  Building things isn't my favorite thing.  Building things with a child with junkyard breath telling me I'm not building it fast enough is DEFINITELY not my favorite thing.

And, there's always a missing piece.

The average LEGO owner has 84 pieces.  That's 84 possibilities for my children to lose something.  My kids have been known to lose jackets, shoes, each other...  so the odds are clearly stacked against me with something the size of a lego.

I truly think they should ban those bitches.

I'm okay with Duplo.  If only we could find a way to get Taylor Swift to endorse them...

Until then...

Perhaps they could make them glow in the dark.

Or maybe put an age limit.  Like 21.  Because, frankly, I'd almost rather my kids have whiskey than a lego gas station.

Or they could make them squishy.

Or each set could come with thick-ass slippers.

Or perhaps I could just rid of my children.

But, then, who would pick up the swords and needles?

Happy holidays!


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