Lego Lady


When the boys were little, and probably still, they loved playing with Lego’s.  Being the kind of “mean mom” who would not allow her kids to park themselves in front of a TV, Lego’s were something that kept them entertained for hours.  One day each week, we had a Non-Electronic Day.  The kids were not allowed to watch TV or play with video games.  In fact, even toys that required batteries were outlawed on Non-Electronic Day.  T used to laugh and ask my why I did such a thing to myself!  Sure, it wasn’t the easiest day each week, but it was fun to see the kids have no choice but to think creatively.  We started out with a little Lego table. It had a mesh basket in the center of the table to hold the blocks .  The boys quickly outgrew the little basket, and we added several other containers full of Lego’s.  I can still picture our old playroom with the little table and the colorful boxes of full of Lego’s.

One day years ago, the boys made Lego Lady for me.  They were really proud of her, so I put her on the plate shelf in the kitchen.  Lego Lady sat in a little Lego lounge chair complete with an umbrella.  She held a glass of Lego wine in her hand.  If I remember correctly, the boys gave her to me as a symbol of what a mom might like to do if she ever had time to relax.  🙂  Lego Lady lived peacefully on her shelf in the kitchen until one day when I decided to do some spring cleaning.  I took Lego Lady down so I could dust the shelf, and I decided not to put her back.  The shelf is actually a plate rail that T built that goes all around the kitchen.  Lego Lady didn’t really match my collection of Depression glass, so I decided to get rid of her.  I thought I could sneak her back in with the other Lego’s, and the boys wouldn’t even notice.   I set her aside, and forgot about her,  intending to put her away later.

It was a mid-April and unusually warm.  After dinner that evening, T and I went outside with the kids.  We were in the process of getting our vegetable garden ready for planting.  The kids were little.  Andrew was six; Luke was three, and Emily was just over a year old.  Em played happily in the dirt while T and I worked in the garden.  The boys were playing with the neighbor boy in the front yard.  Suddenly, I heard an unearthly scream.  All of these years later, and I can still hear that sound ringing through my head if I summon it up.  I don’t, though.  It’s an old memory now and not a good one. Continue Reading »