When my wife was pregnant with out first, and we found out we were having a boy, I'll admit that I was pretty excited. I could have a little mini me to teach how to camp, build forts with, and set things on fire. But then I realized for a good year, all I could do with him is change diapers and clean up puke.
Once he was old enough to play with cars and Legos, I was pumped. Finally we could do something dangerous. But then I realized more bad news. The giant Legos that little kids play with are lame. They are gargantuan and the forts you can make with them are dumb. There are no little Lego people you can use either.
But now that my son is 5, we can actually play with the normal, grown-up Legos. But guess what? I've stepped on so many of them that the thought of spreading them across the floor and accidentally stepping on one makes me tear up a little. There are multiple levels of pain. Boo-boos, ouchies, all the way up to childbirth. But above all of that is stepping on Legos.
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