The League Of The Lego.

I hate Lego. White, black, green , yellow, red, blue, purple...I am not a racist. I hate Lego. It wasn`t always this way. As a child, I adored the stuff. Tinkered with it for hours but  there`s a thin line between love and hate, they say.

I am sure it breeds faster than gerbils. I know gerbils. I took four home one summer holiday from school. Two boys, two gals. "Whatever you do," warned Ms Teacher, perfectly manicured nail waving pointedly two inches from my nose for extra effect," Do not put them together in the same cage." Me being the worldly age of 14, where you know everything, sick to death of all these old farts harping on about head transplants,  I took pity on the wee things one hot day and let them loose in the `big` pen. Eight weeks later, I took over sixty back to the school. In a new cage my Dad had constructed as the harem had started to gain momentum. I know gerbils.

"So what do you not like about living here?" enquired a mutual mate of hubby and mine one evening." The cockroaches and..." I paused as my lip started to curl and friend interjected "Let me guess... the hot and humid summers?" Shaking my head, I spat out  "Lego."

After being impaled through either foot numerous times on a daily basis, I have decided that every piece of Lego needs to be redesigned with it`s own mini airbag. Sweeping a field for landmines somewhere out in south east Asia must be a hell of a lot easier than securing the first floor in my place. These tiny, plastic tyrants are not only magically capable of transporting themselves anywhere throughout the house but once there, have chameleon qualities rendering them invisible to the naked eye. My confidence to walk `shoe free` into any room has been shattered, placing a great strain on me emotionally and physically. " Everything okay?" enquired my mummy friend stumbling onto me hopping, swaying and dancing around on my toes, humming under my breath " I know you are in here!"  in her son`s playroom.

I`ve heard rumours that a piece of Lego was even found on the moon. Imitating a moon rock.Nearly ripped a hole in the astronaut`s  boots. But it was all hushed up by The Whitehouse.....probably by another piece of Lego. (Cue in Goldsmith`s `Ave Santani` in the background)

Besides the physical daily torture, Lego also has other insidious means at it`s collective `We are The Lego` hand to stomp it`s presence into your psyche. Yesterday early morn, I was wrenched from a deep sleep by what I thought at first, was a bat flapping in my face. A torchlight revealed Batboy. "What is it?....Did we have another aftershock?" as I reassured him with a hug, suddenly noticing that the house was silent....and still. And the clock`s hands glowed on 5.30. "No,Mummy." Batboy grinned his lopsided grin, and holding out a catalogue, flapping it excitedly in my face "I know what I want for Christmas.This new Star Wars Lego kit..........."