I hadn’t thought of it when I first approached my wife with that certain twinkle in my eye, but in a world where couples have children for the tax write-off, why the hell not bring a child into the world for the sake of sharing one of life’s greatest pleasures? I’m talking of course about Legos.
At the age of eighteen, I boxed up the last of my childhood treasures and stowed them in the 180-degree attic space of my parents’ Texas home. With those treasures went a mighty cardboard box of Legos. At the time, I thought I would never again experience the insight and satisfaction those plastic bricks brought me for so many years.
More than just a vehicle for fine motor skills, those bricks produced endless plans for disposable automobiles and rotating hallways and underground bunkers on the moon. Legos unlocked my geeky architect and creative hubris.