A great statue waited in perpetual incompletion. Mikey gazed teary-eyed at the construction zone, as silent as the other miniature figures looking on. The building blocks of the pedestal were set firmly in place, but all work had halted.
“Did you give him a C-H-O-C-O-L-A-T-E-B-A-R?” asked Mikey’s dad.
“What’s a Cho Cola Tea Bar?” his mother replied.
The dad sighed. “Why is he crying?”
“He can’t find the missing piece.”
“Can’t he use one of the hundred others?”
“You know he’s very particular.”
“Can we exchange the kit at the toy store?”
“Not once it’s opened.”
His dad knelt and wiped a tear from Mikey’s cheek. “Look, son, it’s just a missing Lego block.”
“Son, let’s look for your missing block.” The dad took one step, then winced. Mikey’s missing gray building block was lodged firmly in his right foot. “Argh!” Another step: Mikey’s dad blundered into his son’s Lego pile.
Mikey beamed as he recovered the proper piece. The pedestal completed, he resumed construction on the miniature Statue of Liberty.
“You saved the day,” Mikey’s mother said, but the compliment fell on deaf ears. While Mikey reveled in the thrill of his Lego block victory, his dad was preoccupied with the agony of the feet.