Benjamin—age seven—had been asking us to take him to the Lego store, where he wanted to spend several months worth of allowance on new bricks. I don’t do malls, or in fact stores, so the request had languished like a dream deferred. Finally, on Saturday, my husband took Benjamin and Lilah on the much-anticipated expedition. Both children returned carrying unmistakable yellow bags and wearing smiles.
However, as Ben began to show me the bricks he’d chosen from the bins, his face suddenly went pale. He had left his Minifigure in the store.
Mind you, this wasn’t a new Minifigure. This was one long out of production that he had taken along for the trip because—duh—you need to bring Legos with you when you go to the Lego store.
As he fought to keep back the tears that were spilling down his pallid cheeks, I went to the computer to look up the number of the Natick Mall Lego store. I had no real hope that the thing had been found by someone who actually gave it back. Who would look at Legos in the Lego store and think, “Someone must have lost this”?
Devin answered the phone. “I know this is kind of like asking you to look for a needle in a haystack,” I began. “But my son left his special Minifigure in the store.”
“Can you describe it?” he asked. Only in the Lego store would they think to ask you to describe the Minifigure.
Benjamin got on—sniffling, mind you—and described the space Minifigure with the orange goggles. Neon orange, he explained.
“I’ve got it right here,” said Devin, who proceeded to put it in an envelope for me and tack it to the board.
The last think I wanted to do was drive out to the mall—see above—and I may have expressed that to Devin. I also may have expressed this to Benjamin with admonitions that if he ever took another Minifigure out of the house, I would have nothing to do with finding it. I love my kid, however, so Monday morning I put aside all the stuff I needed to do (like, say, work) and drove out to the Natick Mall. As fortune would have it, I even got to sit in 40 minutes of traffic on the way there.
To make it more worth my while, I returned a few things that I bought over the Internet—see above—and then made my way to the Lego store, where I got to meet my friend Devin face-to-face.
Devin brought out the prodigal Minifigure, along with a bucket. “I think you should take him home two friends, too,” he said, and proceeded helped me select two other Minifigures from the orphan bucket.
At home, I set the little square fellows on the table. When the kids returned from school, I told Benjamin that his Minifigure had made friends while staying overnight in the Lego store and hadn’t wanted to leave them behind. Nothing made more sense to him than that, of course, a Minifigure left in the Lego store for a couple of nights would naturally get to know the other Minifigures.
To Devin at the Natick Mall Lego store—may you have a wonderful Thanksgiving, surrounded by people who love you. May your holidays—whatever they are—be filled with joy and light. And may your 2014 be as happy and magical as you made this cold November afternoon for a seven-year-old who thought he had seen the very last of his special little friend.