Son to me: Yes.
Me to son: Really?
Me to son: Did you double-check for the clear ones?
Son to me: Yes, Mom. Jeez. There are no LEGOs on the floor.
Me to son: Because I don't want to go into your room and step on any LEGOs.
Son to me: I know, I know.
Me to son: Because they hurt.
Son to me: The floor is clean.
Me to son: ...
Son to me: ...
Me to son: I'm getting the vacuum.
And that sums up parenting in our household these days.
Oh, wait. It doesn't. There's more.
No matter how many times I've stepped on one of those LEGOs and felt the dagger-level pains that have shot up through my foot and into my spine, I've always been pleasantly surprised at what my son was building. Sometimes, it is a house. Once it was an entire amusement park - complete with rides. Usually, it is a space vehicle that has lots of bombs.
The good news is that he is building without instructions. Or rather - as he would say it - he is building using the designs he can see in his head. Which means LEGOs are doing their job - those bricks are actually great for improving spatial relationship thinking. All those four count by two count or three count by eight count bricks help children understand how structures can be connected or coexist peacefully upon the same flat gray baseplate.
So, LEGOs are good. Except when you step on them. So I am still going to vacuum his room when he is done.
What was your favorite childhood toy? Tell me in the comments.
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