Lego Boy

It's often a joke among parents that Legos are our nemesis.  Their pointy little edges feel like knives when you step on them, and they seem to multiply and strategically place themselves in the most precarious of places, especially in the middle of night when you least expect it.  

All of this went through my mind tonight when I literally ran into a pile of them while hurrying to gather my six year old's animals for bedtime.  However, I didn't curse them this time, instead I actually felt sad.  I suddenly realized someday these will be gone, no longer scattered about because in his mind he'll be too old for them and he'll be on to other things.  

So tonight I'll cherish that he loves his animals surrounding him in bed, lullabies and goodnight kisses. I won't mind finding a little person who's crawled in bed beside me in the middle of the night because he's had a bad dream, blanket and pillow forts in the hallway, or foam nerf bullets in my laundry.  Instead tonight I'll rejoice in Legos, match box cars and all the other things that represent my sweet little Max.  I'm very content to let them be, simply because I know they belong to a sweet little boy who won't be little for long...