Toy Houses

This is my (late) entry to this month's The Blog Rounds, Christmas edition, hosted by Doc Ness.

Lego.

Lego Lego Lego Lego Lego.

Ever since I received my first Lego set (a yellow bungalow with a kitchen and a bedroom, kind of cool actually), I've always wanted more. A whole town to play with. You see, I didn't get very many toys as a kid and I always thought that Christmas would be my time to rake it in. Every year I'd write to Santa for yet another Lego set. But I think it was only answered once out of maybe 5 or so times I asked for one (5 years may not seem like much-- but only a lifetime to a child). And it wasn't another house (or a hospital/firehouse/airport, what I really wanted), it was just a small set, probably a vehicle or a bunch of civilians. You can imagine how stupidly disappointed I was, when you compare the gift to the fantasy. The fact that we used to visit a Gift Gate branch (official dealer of Lego for quite a time) each week, where I'd ogle the universe as conceived entirely in multicolored interlocking blocks, probably made matters worse.

It wasn't until later on that I was able to truly comprehend the Christmas situation of the past few years. News flash-- Lego sets, especially when you want them to have a two-tier house, are fucking expensive. Thou-sandssss of pesos. Waaaay too expensive for me to buy, even if you don't take into account inflation and transport those old models with their prices intact to the present day. Probably worse for my parents back then, who had a kid who didn't want for anything except maybe the most extravagant thing, but once a year. I hope I didn't break their hearts back then. To be fair, I don't remember throwing a tantrum or seeming disappointed in receiving other gifts.

I wanted a toy house to build and make my imagination soar. Building blocks made of plastic. What I got instead was a real home, a happy family, more love than you could ever hope to receive in a lifetime. I dreamed of toys, but my reality was far more fortunate/charmed than what most had. The irony is that these days I get insecure and frustrated with how little I have to buy for my own family, not realizing that they are NOT the obsessive imps that children can be, like I was. Although it can be extremely pressuring to provide as much love as they do to me-- I'm not sure I can ever, but that doesn't mean I won't try.