My husband leaves me at night to play with toys.
Yes folks, I am a Lego Widow.
Tonight, as we sat at dinner, my son excitedly showed off 5 out of the 300 sets of Legos that he received for his birthday that our nanny was kind enough to put together for him today. He was so into it–showing us who each character was, how he or she moved, what each vehicle could do, yada, yada, yada.
My husband, who stayed home sick for the first time in forever because he could barely swallow, turned to my son and whispered the following…
“Go downstairs to the playroom, pick out a Lego set and I’ll put it together for you tonight.”
an asshole a sweetheart!!! Here are my reasons why:
#1. The man is sick. He needs to not be sick. He needs to not be playing Lego. (Fun fact: The plural of Lego is Lego.)
#2. The man is a fantastic father. He has nothing to prove. Putting together a Lego set wouldn’t have furthered his cause. He’s already won the Father of the Year Award by changing diapers, getting thrown up on, rubbing backs, driving carpool, making up silly songs, playing tag, trying really, really hard to braid pigtails, and spending hours upon hours building Lego sets. Some call it overachieving. Others, showing off. The kids and I know we’re super lucky, but sometimes, I wish the man would just take a break.
#3. Selfish mommy/wife really wanted to watch one of the DVR’ed shows but if he doesn’t finish soon, I’m going to watch something without him…and I might be annoyed enough to delete an episode of The Following “by accident.”
Here’s the deal. He claims playing Legos* is relaxing, but honestly, with all the f-bombs he’s dropping, does this look relaxing to you:
I suppose at the end of the day, or night in this case, if it makes my boy(s) happy, there are worse things I could lose my man to than Lego, like ultimate frisbee or those people who act out Game of Thrones in real life. They’d probably make me sew costumes in that case and then my night would be ruined too.
At least I’m not doing any manual labor for this Lego thing, and even I can admit the end result is kind of awesome…
*Because I’m a megabitch, I insist on calling it “playing Legos” because it annoys my husband endlessly. He feels that by referring to it as something you play, it diminishes the skill that goes into building the sets. Whatever. I think it’s hysterical!