The unexpected romance of the Lego set
On Valentine’s Day ABC daytime themed episode Abbott elementary school, Gregory gave his girlfriend, Amber, Lego bouquet because she is allergic to real flowers. An unsuccessful romantic gesture, Amber didn’t enthusiastically ask if the gift was for her or her children. At the same time, Gregory’s colleague, Janine, received a Telfar bag from her boyfriend, Maurice. When Janine mistook it for a shopping bag, Maurice explained that the bag To be gift—a tailor-made gift. On her way out of school, Amber enviously looks at Janine’s Telfar bag and Lego set.
Before I meet my boyfriend, I will side with Amber in this situation. I wrote Lego blocks a long time ago. As a child, I liked Barbie and Play-Doh more. When I was a teenager babysitting, I considered blocks to be a danger. When I don’t dodge them in the playroom like a real life version of Floor Is Lava, I’m gently taking them out of a toddler’s tiny hand before a bite-sized bite hits their throats. I would never consider it a fun hobby let alone a romantic gift idea.
But as an adult, I corrected my mistake. What started as a random trip to the Lego store with my partner a few years ago has ended with a renewed love and appreciation for these colorful little blocks. More importantly, it became a fun and unique way for us to bond. Suddenly, I’m also envious looking at Lego bouquet on my TV and make subtle suggestions to my boyfriend.
When my boyfriend first suggested we go to the Lego Store on a rainy Sunday afternoon, I thought it would be a great time to hide in my apartment all weekend. We walked into the store, skimmed the walls lined with Lego sets, and walked out with New York City Department of Architecture. When we got back to our apartment, I was eager to start building, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous at all.
As someone with both ADHD and a terrible perfectionist, I have trouble enjoying and committing to creative hobbies. Over the years I have collected coloring books, crayons, knitting needles and brushes, all of which are still intact. Whenever I try to clear my mind with some art and craft work, I get so pressured to make sure it goes well that I end up giving up on the project altogether.
But since building Lego sets is an activity my boyfriend has been wanting to try together for a while, I wanted to give it a try. We unboxed the kit, arranged each tile pack chronologically, opened the manual, and started—matching each piece to the diagram on the page and following the steps. A few hours later, we put the last brick in place and proudly looked at our new work.
As we started to come up with different ideas of where we could put it, I felt like I had just come out of a trance. For the first time in a while, I try to calm the anxious thoughts in my brain and focus on what’s in front of me without taking too many breaks or saving it for later (knowing I’ll never be able to do it again). actually come back to it). “This is how people feel after they meditate,” I told him. “I told you so,” he quipped. I want to go right back to the Lego Store and buy another set.