A tower of over-sized Lego building blocks reached from the concrete to the garage ceiling when we arrived Friday evening at my daughter’s house. We had found the right place to cash in our invitation to a Lego party. We had a double invite. Months ago my daughter suggested that we go together to a neighborhood yard sale always held the first weekend of October, which also happened to be the day of my grandson’s eighth birthday.
The past couple of years, the lad has been infatuated, fascinated and obsessed with Lego building blocks. He wants all that we have, you have and that the store has. His parents have their own ideas of how many he will have. His fixation makes it easy to shop for the lad.
And, it gave his parents an excuse for an outing to Dallas on Labor Day weekend – the date for a Lego KidsFest. They knew he would be enthralled with the display of elaborate creations and events. Kids roll in a pile of Lego bricks, create their own Lego insects and make Lego art for the board.
So, when we found a huge plastic bag stuffed with Lego blocks at a yard sale it only took a couple of minutes of discussion to agree to pay the eight dollar price tag for the red, white and blue blocks. We knew Lego Lad would love them.
With that as our most expensive purchase of the day, we walked a couple of miles checking out the neighborhood sales. I found a Bible Story book I had on my ‘to buy’ list and some needlework items. She found books and stuffed animals for her daughters who have only a passing interest in Lego blocks.
Lego Lad greeted that bundle of blocks with a big grin and shout of excitement. We had bought an early start to his birthday celebration. He spread them across the dining room table to inspect. The blocks originated as far back as the 1970s. Obviously they had been played with for years. He did not care. He pulled out the instruction sheet to make a ship and began pawing the pile for the matching blocks. Quite a feat since the pile held pieces of three or four lego sets. As he pawed, he found some odd-looking Lego people – their suggestion of arms ended with hands hidden in plastic pockets.
A bit of research on the Internet and we dated the Lego people between 1974 and 1978. After 1978 all the Lego people had joints. He was sure he had found something worth a bazillion dollars. We set aside his treasure.
He sorted and built. His mom pulled out the Lego streamers she had found months ago on a clearance rack. She arranged a tray of Lego candy made with plastic molds: white chocolate Lego people and chocolate Lego building blocks.
No Lego cake to decorate, however. The lad wanted cookies, a fruit tray and hamburgers for his birthday. It was his birthday.
Networking provided her with three sizes of Legos for party games: the big blocks stacked in the garage, Duplos on a table and a tray of the most popular size. Guests worked in teams of four to create a structure to surround three children using the biggest blocks, a long train from the Duplos and a Lego bug from the regular blocks.
While they worked on their games, some adult guests wandered inside, but not for long. One came running out, “does anyone know the Heimlich? Does anyone know the Heimlich?”
The children never heard the alarm. By the time all the adults had responded, my daughter had already grabbed the victim around the middle and patted her on the back. The victim waved her aside as she coughed. She didn’t need the Heimlich, just a good chance to catch her breath.
It was all over so quickly. The Lego engineers worked on undisturbed. My daughter shrugged it off as no big deal. I raised my eyebrows, shook my head and was glad the party ended with only an upbeat note of thanks from the honoree for the stash of new Lego kits which kept him busy late into the night.
(Joan Hershberger is a staff writer at the News-Times and author of “Twenty Gallons of Milk and Other Columns from the El Dorado News-Times.” Email her at joanh@everybody.org)