People love them some LEGOs. I recognize this. I’m not here to bury them (those people or the LEGOs). But I’m not here to praise them either (those people or the LEGOs). I’m just ambivalent about the toy.

I didn’t really want to write about the colorful little blocks.

And then someone gave my son a bunch of them.

I like LEGOs just fine, but I’ve never loved them.

My primary memories of the tiny jagged little blocks of pain are of helping one of my older brothers build LEGO trucks and then gleefully ramming them into the wall. I played with them but I wasn’t obsessive; I preferred playing make-believe with my Star Wars figures and zooming race cars down tracks that led straight into Castle Greyskull’s front door.

I’m no architect; I’m no construction worker. I wasn’t big into building stuff as a kid and I’m not big into building stuff now. Of course, back in my day they didn’t have all the themed and branded collections. If there had been Indiana Jones LEGOs or Superman LEGOs when I was growing up, maybe I’d have had more of a connection to the product. As it stands, I recognize their coolness; I think they’re a versatile and fun toy, I’m happy to buy them for my son (if he wants them), and I don’t really care about them.

I don’t know yet how Detective Munch feels about LEGOs. But I’m about to find out.

He received a whole bunch of LEGO sets for his birthday last month, most of which are superhero-themed, as is his entire life. Unfortunately, most of which are also missing already, because HOLY SHIT WHY ARE THE PIECES SO SMALL?!

Most of tiniest pieces aren’t the blocks themselves, they’re like block “accessories”. Tiny plastic flames and tails and capes and webs and bats and hair pieces and other decorative touches that I’m pretty sure didn’t exist when I was a kid. It’s like a LEGO grenade exploded and there is LEGO shrapnel everywhere. The big cliché about LEGOs is how much they hurt when you step on them, and yes, even though my LEGO wars have only just begun, I’ve already had a “John McClane sitting on the bathroom counter with bloody feet” moment. But the bigger issue is the size of these things. They’re infinitesimal!

Do they make them so small to ensure that we’ll lose them and will therefore buy more? MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! Or do they make them so small to dare kids to swallow them? MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!

Half the pieces were lost the minute the package was opened, and the ones that weren’t lost are only not lost because they are in my son’s stool, and the rest were tossed into a big plastic jar full of countless other tiny bits and pieces that likely have no relation to each other and some of which might even be toenail clippings but who can tell without a freaking microscope.

Can you tell it’s driving me crazy? I honestly have no idea WHY ARE THEY SO SMALL!

I’m starting to think it’s because they hate parents.