The kids can do this. Not me. I think it's an age thing, because the toy actually intimidates me. I've found myself standing in the center of the floor, in the process of cleaning up a mess left by little construction workers; holding a piece in each hand, I wonder, "How on earth are these supposed to work together?"

It's not a matter of creativity, I hope. I've always had a surplus of that. I've never looked at myself as a talented builder, but I'm pretty good with the Bristle Blocks and the Lincoln Logs. See, I can build a house. I can make a bridge, or a road, or a statue.

These little oddly-shaped Day-Glo pieces confuse me. I think they require the use of a part of my brain which may just still exist, but which hasn't been exercised in some time. The problem lies in the nature of the pieces, maybe; they're shaped like flowers, wands, and other non block-like objects. It's not what I'm used to, and I don't know how to "plan" with them. I can't just work by the seat of my pants, so to speak.

Do these kids even plan? I mean, in order to build a cannon-monster, who shoots dragons and flies away, you'd have to go into it with a plan in mind, right? The thing had working arms and a moveable weapon, for Pete's sake! How do you improvise something that works so well?!?

I think I've just outgrown my "toy brain." I'm too old to remember how these things are done. I'd ask one of the kids, but they'd probably look at me as if I were crazy. It can't be explained; if it were logical, adults would still know how, and we'd be the ones playing with the toys. It's only fair that the kids are the ones who get to have the fun, I guess.

But Eric can't wait for our kids to be old enough for Lego Mindstorms. He'll probably jump the gun and start buying them when we have toddlers. He's that excited.

It wasn't as difficult to fall asleep alone last night as it has been in the past. Eric will be back from Racine late tonight. I hope the pseudo-interview went well, though I'm sure it did. All things are pointing to the fact that Eric will soon be employed at his company's new plant. He's just hoping that the offer is good. A colleague told him not to accept their first offer, but to jockey for more.

It's funny; even now, we make more money than his parents do, and yet whenever we call his mother, she immediately asks us to let her call us back, "so it won't be on y'all's phone bill." She regularly sends Eric credit cards and phone cards. She just seems to have trouble with the fact that we are self-supporting. It's what she wants; she just can't remember that it's already happened.

By the way, I still haven't decided what to do about the Personal Ad Dilemma, and nobody's had any suggestions. I did tell my mother, and she found it hilarious.