Lord, thank you for the lesson. I'll try to remember it this time.

Quite a while ago, when our boys were just beginning their interest in Legos, we discovered what seemed to be a good thing. In one of the new Lego packages, Jackson found a form that you could send in to receive a free two year subscription to The Lego Club Magazine. The offer boasted of articles, instructions, and pictures sent in by subscribers. Sounds like a cool thing for a budding Lego enthusiast, right?

Oh my gracious… what a mistake! Yes, the magazine has some articles, instructions, and photos of random things constructed with Legos. But mainly, this publication is a catalog. No wonder it’s free! My kids want nearly everything they see within the pages. They ask us to buy them and, after we say no, they vow to save every penny they earn until they have enough money to buy the things they want. Sheesh.

Last year, the “I wants” reached an all-time high. Andy and I determined that these Lego catalogs are the root of the problem. So, I started intercepting the mail before the boys could check it, putting the offending magazines directly into the trash. Not surprisingly, as the magazines disappeared, the attitude faded. End of story? Oh, no. I wish it were.

I can’t explain why, but I decided that the boys would like to see the new magazine when it came in the mail. And so I gave it to them. Ugh. Really, I wish I could explain why I would do such a thing. What at first seemed like a sweet, generous, caring action has revealed itself to be quite the opposite. Because of the attitude that this magazine invokes in my little Parker, he now sees me as mean, withholding, and cruel. Why won’t I just buy him these toys that his happiness hinges on? I’m not kidding. He has shed bitter tears over his lack of new Lego toys more than once in the past week.

It sounds over the top to say that Satan tempted me and tricked me into it. It sounds cliché and blame shifting of me. But seriously. The sunshiny cheery voice in my head that sold me on giving the boys these magazines has quickly turned in a stormy maniacal laugh, ridiculing me for my own stupidity. I hate that.

Like I said, this “magazine” was discovered quite a while ago. I think we just have to be nearing the end of the two-year sentence, right? It doesn’t matter. I won’t be bringing another one into my house.

Sadly, I know that it will take quite some time to undo this damage. But thankfully it can be undone. I will rid my household of all Lego magazine paraphernalia, and slowly my little Parker will forget about this drama. I, however, will remember this lesson for years and years to come.