Complaining (I'm looking at you, Zack) would lead to the shiny new beloved toys being locked away until I wanted to see them again.
A day that may never come.
We returned home, the civil unrest quelled. I understood the excitement - I am nearly manic myself this time of year, impatient for the new year to begin. But for now, for this week, I am mired down with this head of mine, the post-holiday clean up. I did my best laundress imitation and used the mounds of clothes as an excuse to watch The Namesake. My Big Plans would have to wait.
Soon, I was swept up from the debris, the thank you cards, waiting to be written. I was hanging out with Gogol, seeing the Taj Mahal.
I paused the movie, to take what was supposed to be a quick break to grab some tea, when my boy asked if he can start putting together his lego-y Pirates of the Carribbean ship. And I agreed, because I am stupid and think he is brilliant and doesn't need my help. Surely he could raise the mighty ship while I sequestered Christmas socks.
What, with it's...235 pieces.
You see where this was leading, right?
Zack and I bonded and built a home for our beloved Jack Sparrow, until it was time for dinner.
I was humbled by my utter lack of lego skillz.
(2008: the year of the novel and Mega Blok lessons?)