One of my sons had this toy – a ninjago-like lego. Like all of his toys, I was so sure that this one too would have a short shelf-life. I was not disappointed. In barely a week of play, some parts of the very small toy were missing. If I were to be fair, I should give him a pat on the back or an award for waiting that long before dismembering its parts. When he was a toddler, he would throw tantrums as soon as his toys were ruined. Sometimes he would get a good spank or at other times, I’ll rather coerce him with a promise to buy another one. Now that he was a little older, he was also a little wiser.
On he went, playing with his lego and a couple of other broken toys he could find. I observed he was having so much fun, so I watched him as he played. To my surprise, he had gotten two match sticks and attached them to the lego – his toy now had make-shift arms – that fit so nicely too. Apparently, I was not the only one who observed the grin on his face as he played. With very lit eyes, his younger siblings rushed towards him and begged to let them have a go playing with his lego. They even promised to let him have their own ‘prized’ toys. He rose to the occasion and with their request, milked the situation very nicely; after all he was now at an advantage.