Matthew Osborne
If you’re a parent, you’ve been there before. It’s Christmas morning – or perhaps afternoon, when you have already resigned to taking a nap with the NBA on in the background – when the request comes.
“Daddy, can you help me put this together?”
Now, it could be a new shiny bike, or a tool bench or whatever, but when your little guy or gal gives you that look that says “My Christmas would be enhanced if this new toy was up and running,” you cannot in good conscience look away.
And so it was with Ollie and his LEGO set depicting the Shrieking Shack from the Harry Potter films.
I have built many a LEGO set in my time, both as a child and probably more as an adult, to be truthful. They make much cooler ones now anyway with Marvel, Star Wars, Batman … anything you can dream up is probably a LEGO set.
My Arc of the Covenant of LEGO sets is the 1960s Bat Cave attached to Wayne Manor and including every character, vehicle and gadget from that old show. It retails for $500 or more but one day, I will live that dream.
Right, this was about my 8-year-old kid, not a 45-year-old, I digress.
So Ollie and I began to build the set, and I usually fly through these things. But this one gave me trouble, as the usually-illuminating pictures were not clear about where one of the pieces sat in the grand scheme of things.
I feared I was off by one little peg and I was, though I could not figure how or where. It was a splinter in my mind, driving me mad, as Morpheous once suggested about The Matrix.
My difficulties were so great that Ollie gave up on me after a while and began playing another game, hoping that his dear old dad could just pull it together and assemble the thing. When you are frustrated enough that the child no longer is enjoying your company to assemble the toy, you have failed as a parent.
After that incredible self-talk, I angrily improvised my way through the first problem, then ran up against another while assembling the Whomping Willow tree. (If you know, you know.)
Look, this thing just wouldn’t fit in. I pushed and pulled and nudged and fudged, but nothing was working. I tried to match up the little gears in the turning mechanism that makes the tree “whomp” and I would have bet on my life they were lined up …
(Breathes into a paper bag even now while reliving this …)
OK … it’s OK.
So, I am cramming and exclaiming obscenities as Santa drove off out of sight … MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A (radio edit).
Why won’t this line up for goodness sakes? The gears are like perfectly aligned and …
Wait, I wonder if these teeth are backward.
Shortly after, the tree snapped into place, planting its roots firmly in my head where it will grow and flourish rent free for perhaps the rest of my life.
As of this writing, Ollie and I still have three bags of LEGO pieces to go. Dad needed a mental break and some counseling, but that shack will be up in 2023 if I have to learn witchcraft myself to do it.
Happy New Year and may all your children’s toys come assembled.
Matthew Osborne is the editor of The Northeast Georgian. Reach him at 706-778-4215 or editor@TheNortheastGeorgian.com.