Yegos

I had hidden the Legos well on a high shelf in the usually closed closet that the children are not allowed in for mostly safety reasons (mainly that something might come crashing down on their head or toe or other exposed body part). But the Dude (after not remembering them for a long time) finally remembered them. And asked about them and kept asking about them untilitdrovemealmostcrazy asking about them.

I had forgotten how creative he gets with his Legoing. His new request upon embarking on an art project (and for him, Legos are an ART), is that I do one for him and he does one for me. Today we started with seussian stairways that combined to create spaceships (or something that blasted around the room) and then ended very prosaically with a little red house.

The Dude is so happy free-forming and so stressed out when he's trying to make it Perfect Just Like the Picture, Mommy. Although the little house is charming and his attention to detail is alarming, I find his own creations to be much more interesting and fascinating. Especially since he's starting to come up with stories and reasons for all the kinks here and colors there and tall towers por aquí.

I'll try to remember all those happy creative juices spouting everywhere when I step on the Legos tomorrow. In my bare feet.