Nurturing my inner... little surprise

When I was in third grade, Brian (his last name shall remain unknown to you) was my boyfriend.  It was a serious little affair.  We sat next to each other in math class.  Spent recesses together.  I wrote his name with mine in a heart in my three ring binder.  He even beat up this girl Maureen who was wretchedly mean to me.  (Seriously, I think he punched her in the arm.  So much for Mean Maureen.)  Though I do not agree with physical violence, I do appreciate dear dark-haired, blue-eyed Brian taking up for me.  Sadly, as it happens with many first loves, it was too much, too soon.  It all came to a bitter and sudden end when his family moved away.  Thereby, crushing my dream of having a last name that also started with a K.  (And my other dream of marrying a man with dark hair and blue eyes!)  I was bereft.  Abandoned.  I'm sure recess stunk for a good long time after that.  (Oh cruel third grade love!  Why wert thou so lovely, yet fleeting!)  But my dear boy, mature as he was, left me with a sweet young lovers parting gift.  One of his Lego mini men.  (Don't knock it.  This is a third grade boy we're talking about.  To willingly give up, without being asked, one of your action figures, was some serious sacrifice.  I will not ever believe otherwise.)

You know, I still have that little Lego guy.  He reminds me of a simpler time and I'll always treasure him.  He's at my mom's in my old bedroom closet.  Most likely in a box with my Garfield books and ice cream cone shaped erasers.  (Hello, totally 80s!)  Next time I go home, I'll have to look for my miniature, plastic love token and take a picture of him.  As I recall so clearly, he was plain with white pants and a blue top.  Or did he have blue pants and a white top.  (Honestly, that was like nearly 35 years ago - I'm doing my best here!)

Now, some decades later, here I am.  A professional.  I have a laptop, a mouse and a BlackBerry.  I have arrived.  My "corner office" may be a cube right outside the men's bathroom, but that's neither here nor there.  (Right now though, I'd rather be here - on my sofa - than there.)

I've been at several different jobs over the 20 years I've been in Corporate America.  Not of my own choosing, but because layoffs have snuck up on me, thrice.  (Don't you just always look for a reason to use a word like "thrice.")  When I have been able to stay at a company for any amount of time, I've been orged and reorged, stacked and restacked, so I don't really try to make any 8' x 8' corporate holding pen a home.  Where I used to have fun desk toys that nurtured my creative side, now to make sure I can pack up everything I own in less than five minutes, I have one striped coffee mug and a notebook with a pen.  Bo-ring.  I miss those days when I could look around and have glow in the dark silly putty and a Koosh ball within arms' reach.  When artsy post cards lined my walls and colored pens were strewn about my desk.  What the heck happened?  When did I get so darn old and unfun?

I was tootling through Target the other day, walking up and down the Halloween candy aisle.  I like to poke around and see what's out there for kids these days.  Trust me, most of it is highly unsightly and the rest is plain disgusting.  I do not need gummy severed body parts, ever, thanks.  I do, however, need chocolate covered marshmallow or peanut butter pumpkins.  And then I stumbled upon this whole box of small blue packets with little Lego people on them.  "What have we got here?" I exclaimed!  (Inside my head I truly hope and not audibly where other Target patrons could hear me.)

The secret-concealing packaging!

Of course, in some Pavlovian-like response, I thought of Brian. I'm certain I always will.  Sweet times.  I figured I would get a few and could give them out to some friends' kids as pocket-sized, non sugary treats.  Maybe send one to my brother for his desk and get a good childhood flashback laugh out of him.  I brought the bag home and put it aside.

Well, work was a harsh one the other day.  Just tiring and frustrating and other "ings" as, of course, happen to us all.  Too much work, not enough time, everyone is disagreeable that day.  Sound familiar?  By the afternoon, I was mentally spent and needed a little pick me up to rescue me from carrying my not so chipper mood well into my evening.

I stepped away from my laptop of angst and was tidying up my dining room table when I found the bag with the Lego minifigure mystery packets.  "Hmmm," I thought to myself, "Why not just open one up and see who's in there!"  So I did.

My mystery man. Who could he be?

Let's see who I got...

Karate guy!  Grrr, able to level bad days
with a single high kick!

Oh, was this mini karate guy perfect or what?!  I laughed.  Which was much needed at the time.  That face he had matched mine from that day exactly.  We were on the same page right down to the eyebrows.  (Though I think his hair is way cooler than mine.)  Later, I even put one of his little legs up to mock kick my bad day in the tukus.  (Don't you just love his gold statues which are like super teensy Lego minis?)  I got such a kick out of this silly, little surprise.  But it was just what I needed.  Nothing grandiose.  Just a simple $1.99 pleasure to melt away my bad day.

Now "Butt Kickin' Brian" as I like to call him, stands next to my laptop, always at the ready.  When I'm having a tough day, he has been known to be posed in a menacing way accompanied by a small voice that says, "Hiya!"  (Wonder who is doing that?)

Who cares if it's silly.  It made me laugh!  Took the edge off of my bad day.  Adjusted my mood.  It's good to remember that when life gets tough, and oh my my it will, sometimes a five minute break and a simple indulgence can turn it all around.

Special note:  I'm sure all of you with kids are now running out to Target to get some Lego minifigures.  When I went back a couple days later, the box was empty!  I wish I had bought more at the time to pass out to friends or coworkers to perk them up.  I had no idea they'd sell out so quickly.  Keep an eye out!  I know I will.  Here is the sheet with all of them pictured.  Now that I tipped you off, you save me an extra Spartan or a Pharaoh if you get one, okay! ;)  I'm pretty sure I've got more bad days that will need some butt kicking in the future...

All 16 Series 2 Lego minifigures.