Seriously, all inanimate objects eventually rebel

and my shoe lace finally did. Ryan loves his Legos. He sometimes gets out of bed at night, pulls a flashlight from under the bed, crawls to his container of Lego man and strokes them. I know this because I hear him, "The Precious! I wants more Precious!" These moments don't last long and he's back in bed with me. He loves Legos. You know this. A few months ago he spent quite a long time building an AMAZING castle. It stood about 3 feet high and just looked cool- I mean REALLY cool. Soon after Ryan cleared a spot in our storage room to leave it and warned me a number of times to be careful the kids didn't get to it. And I have been. Very careful. We've had a few close calls. But for the most part we have protected that castle and Ryan's honor with our lives. 3 days ago I went to pull a game from a higher shelf in that storage room. I admired the castle once more and carefully stepped around it as I reached with my tippy toes. Then, as I swiftly turned to exit the room, I felt a very slight tug on the shoelace of my boot. And with that tug came THEE MOST HORRENDOUS SOUND. My shoelace had caught on a jagged edge of the castle and about 5000 Lego pieces came crashing to the ground. I couldn't even look. I ran to Ryan saying "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" over and over again, trying to hold back tears. He had heard the noise too and just smiled and hugged me. The most tragic part of this loss is that we never took a picture of the masterpiece while it stood, strong and free. This is the rubble that remains (although the picture does not do justice to our great loss). Please send Ryan your condolences at jackquimby@yahoo.com.