Deep in a dark and ancient pyramid, a forbidden chest was opened, and an evil the likes of which had never seen was loosed upon an unsuspecting world (well maybe not an ancient pyramid per se, more like a standard rectangular room, but the lighting back there is poor and the box isn’t allowed to be opened unless a parent is in the room. Okay, so the box’s contents probably aren’t evil, but you can’t say they are entirely good either, so I’m going with it).
It was a plot that would turn dreams into nightmares…It was the curse of the LEGO tape.
It all started innocently enough. It was Spring. Perhaps it was the pollen in the air. Perhaps it was the rising humidity. We may never know the reason. But on this day, the computer was on.
“Kiddo, look what I found.” This as become a rather ominous phrase in my house.
“What is it, dad?”
It’s something called LEGO tape.”
“Coooooooooooool. Can we get it?” Considering I’m pretty sure my son is on a singular quest to collect every single LEGO set ever manufactured, I can only imagine what was going through his head as he watched the video play. You mean I can cover my floors AND my walls in LEGOs? Sign me up!
“Well, you see it’s not yet in stores. They aren’t actually making any yet.”
If our son were a robot, I’m sure he would have said, does not compute. “But the video shows it. Right there.”
“That’s just a prototype. This is a crowdfunding site. They are asking money to make more and the people who give them money now will be the first to get the tape when it goes into production.” My husband launched a business several years ago and has a soft spot for others taking the plunge. Therefore, I can excuse the enthusiasm he projects when discussing entrepreneurialism with our children, but it can be contagious.
“Can we give them money?”
“Sure. Why not?” Why not? Is there another question in the English language that deserves more to go unasked?
May
“Have they shipped my LEGO tape?”
“Not yet. I don’t think it was supposed to be ready until this summer.”
June
“Have they shipped my LEGO tape?”
“Not yet. Be patient.”
July
“Have they shipped my LEGO tape?”
“Not yet. They probably ran into a production delay. That happens sometimes.”
August
“Have they shipped my LEGO tape?”
“Not yet.” At this point you might be realizing my summer devolved into an extended version of the whole, ‘Are we there yet?’ question, which is the second most deserving question to go unasked.
You’d be right.
Still August
“Okay, mom.”
“Oh, my gosh. Is that what I think that is?”
“It’s LEGO tape. But I thought I was supposed to get it before the stores.”
“Er, I thought so too. Maybe it’s another brand or something.” To be fair, there are now a number of variants in the marketplace. Who knew LEGO tape would have such fierce competition? Maybe had we known, we might not have been so quick to back the product, but those are the risks you take in crowdfunding. It’s also a good reminder to always do your due diligence on any investment.
Yep, still August
“I’m never going to get my LEGO tape.”
“I know you’re disappointed, but things like this happen sometimes. It’s in the stores now. We can get it for your birthday if we have to.”
September
“Hey Kiddo, you got an email from the company. They’ve apologized for the delay. Your LEGO tape is coming. There’s even a tracking number.”
“It’s going to get lost in the mail. I just know it.” Kiddo has a legitimate reason to worry. Our local post office is notorious for missed shipments and delayed deliveries. His disappointment would only be made worse after the build-up of the summer-long waiting game.
The next day
The day after that
I have to say I grew somewhat troubled by the fact that Kiddo had stopped asking whether the LEGO tape had shipped. Would his very first experience with crowdfunding go on to be his last? He’d been so eager to be a part of something bigger than himself, especially if it resulted in more LEGOs.
After seeing how high his hopes had flown, I hated to see them plummet like this, but this was one of those times that I couldn’t kiss a boo-boo and make it better. He’d taken a risk. It hadn’t worked out. Not everything he tries in life will be a success. He might as well learn to accept that now so he can focus on the positive side. As much as I wish it didn’t hurt so much at the moment, it is our failures that make us appreciate our later successes all the more.
We moved on. We started planning his birthday list.
I received a text from my husband one evening. “LEGO tape came in. He’s a little excited.”
The kids met me at the door and brought me to their rooms, eager to show off what they’d done already. You might have mistaken a day in late September as Christmas morning. If my husband entrepreneurial enthusiasm is infections, it has nothing on the joy that is knowing a child’s wish has come true.
Allie Potts Writes 