Close Call
Posted: Thu Feb 21, 2013 2:58 am
I had a close call the other day. My brother and his two daughters came over for a visit one evening. Not long after they were here, I learned that the younger one wanted to trade minifigures with me! A small warning light sort of went off in my head, but fortunately I had some extra unopened packages of minifigures which would be perfect for just such a contingency as a merciless bartering 6-year old. It turns out she had gotten a football player from the latest series and didn't like it. So after dinner, we went and looked at what I had: There was a viking, a musketeer, a painter, a gnome… we were looking at the pictures of each one I had on some of the check sheets, and all this time I'm hoping, hoping she doesn't look up to see what I have displayed on the shelf, or look too carefully at those in the zip-lock bags for fear she'd notice the Indian Princess. I tried to encourage her to take an interest in a nice Viking Princess, but nothing seemed to interest her. Of course at the beginning I carefully explained to her that I would trade her one that I had an extra for. And then she saw it. She said she liked the PUNK ROCKER! "Noooooo! Not THAT ONE!" was the scream which went through my head. These were deep waters; She may look cute and harmless, but those are merely survival tactics which have been genetically imbued into little kids over the eons. I had to stick to my guns. The integrity of my LEGOs was at stake here. If I caved in now, where, oh where, would it end? So as reasonably as I could, I explained to her that I only had one of those and I really didn't want to give it up. This sent her into deep thought. So we went through the packages of the ones I would trade once again. After a while when she couldn't make up her mind, I suggested that she didn't have to trade right away, that she could think about it. This seemed to settle things, and she basically told me that she didn't like any of the ones I had. Instead she'd go and trade with some little kid she knew from school. That poor kid. I felt like I'd unwittingly fed him to the wolves… But at least I've still got my Punk Rocker.