Dear Mr. Lego Man,
We have a lengthy love/hate relationship. I can (vividly) recall playing for hours on end with my little brother's Legos. I can also (vividly) recall the envy I had towards my brother as he was (is) the youngest of four girls and my uncle had (has) a soft-spot for the baby of the family, (perhaps because he too is the baby?) which meant that often Christmas'= fresh Lego set for my brother. (I would have to build the complicated parts of the set for him. The older sisters were "too cool" for Legos.) I suppose it was good preparation for becoming a mother of four boys, and now I can build the Lego Batmobile (with four boys playing tag, weaving in and out of my legs) in no time flat.
Mister Lego Man, did I mention DH doesn't play with your creations because he claims he has always been too cool for them? (Do you, too, see a common theme?)
Regardless, as a parent I am becoming to hate you again. Did you ever take into consideration that a 3-year-old may rip off his 4-year-old brother's Star Wars figurine's head and throw it into the abyss (under the kitchen stove).... all because the 4-year-old was being a "poo poo head?" Did you further consider that perhaps that would upset the 4-year-old so much that he would decapitate his 6-year-old brother's figurine and hide it in a spot so top secret, that even the 4-year-old would forget where it was hidden?
I must say, I truly find the crying to be a bit over the top. 12 hours ago I loved you. What has happened?
Could you please make note and in the (immediate) future sell figurine heads al la carte?
Momma of Many Lego-loving Boys
P.S. Did you know that a little hand can spend many days (if not weeks) in the garbage disposal and endure multiple spinning cycles and still come out recognizable? Kudos to your greatly engineered, but overpriced pieces of plastic.
Dear Mr. Scorpion,
I thought we were past being graced with your presence in our home, but sadly I am wrong. Please do not curl up in my flip-flop and think I will not notice you. You have violated our agreement when you entered our home without our permission. Yes, the boys like to get up close and personal with you, but I would rather not have such relationship with you. Leave me, my kitchen, and our home alone.
Dear Mr. Scorpion's Friend.
I assumed because your friend didn't make it out alive that you would have got the message. Again, I stand corrected. Just because you were smaller than your counterpart doesn't mean I wouldn't notice you. Do you really think I would allow you to sit 12 inches away from your friend's resting place without calling for DH? Sorry, visiting hours are over. Go home and don't come back. (FYI that was a pun. I know for certain you will not be coming back. DH squished you as flat as a pancake. Your friends might stand a chance in the future if I don't see them, but DH definitely put his foot down with you.)
Still a Scorpion Hater
Dear Mr. Spider,
I am writing letters to all of my "friends" and clearly you want in on the action... you are casually climbing across the bed as I type this as if I wouldn't see you. Please stay off our bed. If your other insect friends didn't stand a chance, I sure as [*$&@] aren't going to put up with you either.
Don't say I didn't warn you
Dear Random Ants,
I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't march mindlessly across the kitchen counter. I have personally made sure there is not one crumb left on the one counter you love so dearly. Perhaps you should look somewhere else instead. Hey, if you come back later tonight then maybe there might be some "food" for you on the ground. Go run crazy next to my flip-flop. Watch out though, it might sting.
You do it again, I pull out the Raid
Dear Terminix Man,
We pay you in advance for your services not because I enjoy picking up all the scattered toys scattered admist our backyard on the day you come to spray, and not because we have nothing better to do with our money, but because I justified the funds as a "necessity" and well spent if I (and the family) didn't have to live with desert-y insects. Please reassure me the money has not gone to waste.
Your Loyal Customer
The reason we did not buy a dog is because our financial resources are low after our unanticipated Lego store visit. Admittedly I am thinking the dog might have cost less in the long run and killed all of our bug issues without effort on my (and Terminix Man's) in the here and now. Hmm....
Dear Mr. Refrigerator,
I am sorry that I will soon tape your face. Unfortunately Squeaky Z likes to search the house for vessel-like objects and scurry over to play with you more times in one day than I would care to recall. He thoroughly enjoys watching your water shoot into the objects he so eagerly pushes against you. It doesn't seem to faze him that his cup runneth over. Actually it is quite the contrary.... He laughs as your water overflows the rim of the cups (and other containers). Although he enjoys watching your water spill down his clothing, down your face, cover whatever box or stool (used to give a height boost), and puddle on the floor, I do not approve. I have extremely enjoyed drinking your purified water but it becomes a bit much when the 22-month-old finds humor in his older brothers slipping and falling (with your aid, of course) in said watery mess. If your dispenser had a lock I would not have to cover you up, but you don't, which leaves me with little options.
It was him, not you
Ahhhh, I feel much better!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Dear Mr. Lego Man,