Dear Lego, I hate you. Also, I’m sorry, and I love you.

Dear LEGO,

I hate you.

Also, I’m sorry, and I love you.

All my 5-year-old wants is LEGOs. So many LEGOs. I’m thrilled at first, right? It challenges his growing mind and teaches him hand-eye coordination. He is learning what it means to spend time working on something, completing it and getting that profound sense of accomplishment.

But really, LEGO? REALLY?

The pieces. Good. God. The pieces.

LegoOver the past year, I have spent a significant amount of time helping my son put together these creations, and I have to tell you – you could stand to consolidate the job a little. I mean, I’ve seen enough of your stuff to know that what you do in six little pieces could be handled with just one or two correctly sized pieces of plastic.

Some of the steps seem so unnecessary. Like, why do I have to put those single little circles on top of a piece so that it becomes flush with surrounding pieces? Why don’t you just make the shorter piece a fraction of a centimeter taller?

Also, big thanks for making everything so darn tiny that the pieces get lost in our carpet. Yesterday, I spent 30 minutes looking for the dart that attaches to a tranquilizer gun that fits in the tiny hand of a LEGO guy. We found the piece tucked among the fibers of our area rug.

How did we find it?

Two words: BARE FEET.

Yeah, I hate you for that, LEGO. I don’t really want to have to wear shoes because your product features a gun that shoots tiny red plastic circles around my home. And I double hate you for the “clear” blocks that are practically invisible and jump up and bite me every chance they get.

Oh, yeah, and I saw your movie. That song, “Everything Is Awesome,” was stuck in my head for a month. A MONTH, LEGO! No, everything is not awesome when a song is stuck in your head for 30 days.


Oh, LEGO, I’m sorry. I don’t mean it. I just get so angry sometimes. It isn’t your fault that you are so amazing that children who fall below the suggested age range want to try to be a master builder.

I know you put suggested ages on all your products, and my 5-year-old is simply too young for the ones he really wants. He got several such sets for his birthday and Christmas, and my thought was that we could have fun building them together.


No, LEGO, it was not fun.

It took us nearly two hours to build a (freaking awesome) “Ghostbusters” vehicle, complete with the four characters and their ghost-catching devices. My back was aching and my eyes were tired. My 30-something-year-old hands were curled and crippled from hours of pinching tiny pieces of plastic.

It made me really mad at you, LEGO, but deep down, I know that you aren’t to blame. And no matter how mad you make me, I just can’t quit you. The truth is, I really like the Bat Cave and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle hangout and the way you craft the little accessories that go with them.

I love that you appear to encompass every show, every character, every profession. And you also stay as far away from religion as you can, which just shows how considerate you are, because you don’t want to offend anyone. Sure, you might have some work to do in the diversity department, but hey, no one’s perfect, right, LEGO?

LEGO, you’re just so … so … so hot. You’re so hot right now. You’ve always been hot. You’re timeless. You’re everything.

I love you.

But I still kind of hate you.



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1 Comment on Dear Lego, I hate you. Also, I’m sorry, and I love you.

  1. Jessica E.
    February 12, 2016 at 2:42 pm (4 years ago)

    Thank you! This is my life 100% of the time. My son is 4 and has more legos than any child should ever have in his whole life. For a long time he would insist that the built kits remain untouched and unsullied. Then one day after watching the Lego movie and finally grasping the parting message, he destroyed every mother-loving structure. While I was impressed that he got the message of the movie, a little part of me died inside as I watched him. Those are many many hours of building that I will never get back! But, I do kind love building them (just not under the tyranny of an impatient preschooler) and seeing what he comes up with on his own. We’re in it together, mama!


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