Max and Miles who, to Me, Will Always be Secretly Named "Gus"

The blog about Max and his little brother, Miles. Stunningly cute boys and future leaders of the rebel forces.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Stepping on a Lego in the Dark

If you were to ask my Dad about our childhood, about all the great memories from our days of youth: the games of "catch"; the Saturday mornings spent laughing together at Bugs Bunny, et al; unloading a trailer of hay bales for my sister's stupid horse, Toby, in the late September heat and Dad hitting his head on the door frame because we were standing in the trailer, throwing bales, and his head going all "I'm in the WWF and I just got hit in the head with a folding chair".

Woah, woah! Now why is that page starred as "good day" in my journal? Oh, ha-ha, yes. It is because, right after he hit his head, Dad said "stupid horse" right to my sister's face. Ok, that part is not true.

But, so, if you were to ask my Dad about his least favorite part of our childhood (aside from the pathological lying which, obviously, continues to this day) he would say the above words to you: "Stepping on a Lego in the Dark". I'm here to tell you that seeing the old man step on a Lego in the daytime was not a sign that you were going to have a good day, I'm assuming I've just blocked out the post "night of the Lego" days.

I think, though, that my Dad's trauma associated with the Legos has less to do with messy, irresponsible, ill-begotten, Lego-leaving-behind, punks (his words, not mine!) and more to do the absolutely and totally unfortunate decoration choices of the people who had our home before us. People who had re-decorated in the late Sixties/Early Seventies. People who liked shag carpet, blue, and dark wood paneling. Most offensive, had to be the living room shag which, if you look in your J. Crew color guide, could only be described as "puke". The Legos were like velociraptors, melding with their surroundings. Ready to jump under unsuspecting feet as they stomped by.

So there's your perfect storm: kids, Legos, and camouflaging shag.

Thankfully, Katie and I have slightly better taste in floor-coverings.

Photo note: I have no idea why we subscribe to Money Magazine as we have none and if we did, it would just get spent on shoes.


Blogger John Britt said...



Legos are the razor sharp daisy petals of our love for you daddy.

Signed Max and Miles

9:06 PM  

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