Oh how my heart bleeds

11 Jun

A support group has been set up to help architects through the “trauma” of seeing one of their creations demolished in their own lifetime.

Poor, rich architects the country over are suffering (previously) untold misery at having to witness the wanton destruction of their creations. To meet the criteria for membership of the Rubble Club, a place where they can lament their rejection, the architect must be alive at the time of the destruction, must have intended their structure to be permanent and the destruction must be premeditated, intentional and sanctioned… you can’t go burning down your auntie’s bespoke conservatory you knocked up on a weekend “homer” just to get in.

I’ve always suspected I was farging the kids up in any number of ways, so to find that every time I broke up their lovingly designed and skillfully crafted Lego constructions I was in fact subjecting them to this torment, well that’s just great. I almost got through a whole week without someone pointing out my parenting inadequacies. No longer will it be sufficient to “ooh” and “aaah” and “yes I see it” at every colour-blind 3D rendition of an 8-bit cottage (we need curves Lego), now I have to keep them in perpetuity? You know how much this stuff costs? If I have to endow these creations with permanence I may have to skimp on the materials and sneak some Mega Blocks in there… that should threaten the structural integrity a bit. Then all I have to do is jump on the Wii balance board, simulate a major earthquake and blame it all on a natural disaster.

Who can tell what mental anguish I could be responsible for if their artwork was to go the same way? Some of these have been on my kitchen wall now for 5 or 6 years. Do I sacrifice their mental health or decorate? Why is this parenting so hard!?

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