Phase Autobiography
"What are those?" I asked my mom, walking through Toys "R" Us and pointing at a large box.
"Those are Legos, you can put them together and build things," she responded.
I stared at them, repeating the name in my head. Legos. It was a funny name. They looked like colorful bricks with holes in them. "Can we get them?" I asked. Sure enough, we were carrying a box of them to the checkout section.
Crazy as it seemed, the small blocks mesmerized me as a kid. The different colors, sizes, shapes, all were astounding. Blue, yellow, green, red, all the colors I had heard of were there. The way they could stack up together, how they could seemingly transform into anything I wanted, was amazing to me. I would sit on a Lego board that we had bought and make different story lines, using Legos to build a city, boxing ring, even things that were supposed to look like cars, planes, and boats. With all these, I had control over my own mini world, and an endless day of fun.
I would enjoy pretending different groups of people were fighting in a large city made of Legos. Having the buildings knocked over would be as fun as building them. If I was angry, nothing seemed to please me more than to knock down a tower of Legos. However, I did not like it when someone else knocked them down; it aggravated me. I was very protective of them. They were like piles of gold to me, my treasure.
Around the age of five, my family and I went to The Mall of America. It didn't sound very interesting to me, I just thought it was another mall with a bunch of stores like Marshall Fields and Macy's, and that we would spend all our time in clothes stores buying what seemed like everything in the mall. I wasn't even fired up to go. That was until we hit the Lego store. Lego dinosaurs stood 10 feet high over complex Lego cities that could be wiped out with a kick from my foot! I stayed there for hours, building cars that I could slide down the Lego Racetrack. Even the amusement park right next to the store
"Those are Legos, you can put them together and build things," she responded.
I stared at them, repeating the name in my head. Legos. It was a funny name. They looked like colorful bricks with holes in them. "Can we get them?" I asked. Sure enough, we were carrying a box of them to the checkout section.
Crazy as it seemed, the small blocks mesmerized me as a kid. The different colors, sizes, shapes, all were astounding. Blue, yellow, green, red, all the colors I had heard of were there. The way they could stack up together, how they could seemingly transform into anything I wanted, was amazing to me. I would sit on a Lego board that we had bought and make different story lines, using Legos to build a city, boxing ring, even things that were supposed to look like cars, planes, and boats. With all these, I had control over my own mini world, and an endless day of fun.
I would enjoy pretending different groups of people were fighting in a large city made of Legos. Having the buildings knocked over would be as fun as building them. If I was angry, nothing seemed to please me more than to knock down a tower of Legos. However, I did not like it when someone else knocked them down; it aggravated me. I was very protective of them. They were like piles of gold to me, my treasure.
Around the age of five, my family and I went to The Mall of America. It didn't sound very interesting to me, I just thought it was another mall with a bunch of stores like Marshall Fields and Macy's, and that we would spend all our time in clothes stores buying what seemed like everything in the mall. I wasn't even fired up to go. That was until we hit the Lego store. Lego dinosaurs stood 10 feet high over complex Lego cities that could be wiped out with a kick from my foot! I stayed there for hours, building cars that I could slide down the Lego Racetrack. Even the amusement park right next to the store