We were packed and ready to go, and long before lift off, I knew exactly what I wanted to bring back as a souvenir from Legoland. I hoped with the giddiness of a child that I would find a mug adorned with Minifigures. I love Minifigures, more than I love Lego. Judging by the decapitated Minifigures laying in our playroom, I’m going to assume my kids disagree, but that’s another story. (One involving a bucketful of heads.)
Midway through our vacation, and after a day of amazing Legoland adventures, we rushed to the park entrance with little time left to shop before closing. Feeling anxious, I did a quick scan of the store and saw it. An entire wall dedicated to mugs. MINIFIGURES mugs!
It was at this point I may or may not have squealed, clapped my hands and immediately abandoned my children. (There were seven other adult family members present and I assumed at least one of them would keep them alive while I fulfilled my dream).
As I gazed at the wall of mugs, the name of my first child “ANNA” jumped out at me.
It was meant to be!
That’s when the internal dialogue began, as it often does. Oh wait, I thought, this mug is for me. I can’t use a mug with my daughter’s name, plus I’m pretty sure her brother (born two minutes later) would notice and be peeved. Is there an Aidan mug? Yup. AYDEN, AIDEN. Huh. Maybe I should have spelled his name with an E instead of an A Why did I choose A instead of E? Oh right, after two baby births in a row, I was too exhausted to care.
I didn’t want two mugs anyway, so I continued my frantic search.
There were no blank mugs, but there was a “Lego Dude”, “Lego Master” and “Lego Diva” as well as a “Best Mom” which seemed far too presumptuous. My kids call me “Mama” or “Mummy” so my best option was just plain “MOM”. It seemed generic, but it was better than a mug with my husband’s name (which I briefly considered) and “Lego Master” which – quite frankly - is a gross misrepresentation of my skills since I can only build walls.
We left just as the park gates were closing and though I was pleased with my choice, I was also slightly dissatisfied because it wasn’t exactly what I wanted. Maybe I should have asked if they had a blank one in the back room. Thirty minutes of freeway driving later, it hit me.
SHARON!
It hadn’t once occurred to me to look for a mug IN MY OWN NAME.
So if you need me, I’ll be scouring the stores for a Canada 150 mug with the name SHARON emblazoned on it. Let me know if you see one. But if you do spot me, I highly recommend calling me MAMA, because I’ll be more likely to look.
Printer-friendly version