So, my wife, two kids, and I made the trek up to my mom’s house for the weekend. It was one of those trips where you start off with the best intentions, but deep down, you know it’s going to end in disaster. Anyway, at some point, I decided my 8-year-old was finally ready to inherit something precious:
My old Lego collection!
This wasn’t just any box of bricks; this was the holy grail of childhood memories—vehicles, spaceships, and architectural masterpieces that I poured my soul into 30 years ago. Surely, I thought, he’s mature enough to appreciate these works of art.
So, I ventured into my mom’s basement, a place that smells like a cocktail of mothballs and crushed dreams, and dug out the sacred Lego boxes. With a mix of nostalgia and pride, I hauled them into the car, imagining the bonding moments my son and I would have over my old creations.
We got home, and with the gravitas of someone bestowing a royal inheritance, I carried the boxes to his room. There they were: the glorious relics of my childhood, ready to inspire the next generation. I carefully unloaded all my vintage vehicles and buildings, placing them on display like we were setting up a Lego museum. I even imagined him looking at me with awe, like, “Dad, you’re the coolest.”
But life doesn’t work like that, does it? I stepped out for a few minutes to take a quick call—just a few minutes—and when I returned, everything was obliterated. My meticulously crafted childhood dreams? Reduced to a carpet of multicolored rubble. It was like a Lego massacre had taken place, and my son was the one-man wrecking crew.
I stood there, looking at the scene, wondering how many therapy sessions it would take to get over this. And that’s when I knew—I needed to go for a drive. A long, solitary drive. Maybe forever.
I don’t even remember telling my wife where I was going. I just needed to be alone with my shattered memories and the realization that, apparently, everything from my childhood is now just fodder for my son’s destruction.
But hey, they’re made to build things with, I guess, right? Now he gets to build his own treasures. So it’s all good.
