I forgot to tell you something really crazy that happened to me last night...
I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom (I always wake up sometime in the middle of the night). I did the normal thing... I got out of bed, grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt and pulled them on, and walked to the door in the pitch black. It's not hard to do that in my room... three steps in any direction, and you hit a wall.
About halfway to the door, I wake jabbed awake by this awful pain in my foot. Yeow! I've stepped on toys before, but this was really bad. I yelped and picked up my foot and held it in my hands... I felt the toy drop off my foot and hit the floor with a plunk.
So I was there in this pitch black room, with my pants around my knees and my shirt hung around my neck with my arms out, standing on one foot and clutching the other with my hands. I'm not too bad with pain... after a second I put my foot back down and put my clothes in order.
Okay, I was finally ready to move again. I took another step toward the door.
Ouch! My other foot wailed at me... I'm going to have to get onto those kids for leaving their toys around, I guess. I didn't stop, I just kinda hopped off the toy and took the last step to the doorway. OOOOW! What the heck? My feet felt like swiss cheese. What on earth was all over the floor?
I felt around the bare wall and hit the light switch.
All around me, on the floor in a neat little pathway, were dozens and dozens of pointy little Legos, with their pointy bits sticking straight up. Just laying on the floor, in a neat little strip from my bedside to the door, which was locked.
I knew I hadn't done that, but I was still too sleepy to really think about it. I scooped up the legos and threw them into the bin. No more of that problem, I thought. If only I knew...
I made it to the bathroom without incident, closed and locked the door like I always do. I sat down. I noticed a little Lego stick-piece poking under the door... those things get scattered everywhere sometimes. I think there should be an age minimum for owning anything small enough to carry in two fingers.
The toilet paper roll made its necessary sacrifice to the common good, and I was just washing my hands and thinking sleepy thoughts again, when I happened to look down... and saw the Lego stick slide across the floor and bump against my foot. I did what any thinking person would do... I jumped up on top of the bathroom counter. I stared down at the little red toy, unbelieving.
The tiny red brick slid up to the bottom of the sink cabinet, tilted up a little, did a little bouncy motion as if to say oh-my-word-look-who-has
-visited-us, and LEAPED UP and HIT ME IN THE FACE. I automatically smacked my hands on my face, trying to catch the little monster. *bam*. I think I'm going to have that self-inflicted black eye for a while.
Ever heard a lego giggle? It might have been cute normally, but it put me in a killing mood. I jumped off the counter... and felt a dozen little bolts of pain shoot through my already-sore feet. I jumped off the little army of Legos and into the bathtub, catching the red Lego in my hands just as it tried to flee. I spiked it into the toilet and flushed it. A little wail of despair issued up from the swishing bowl and was gone.
Plunk? What just went plunk?
Something was smacking against the door and bouncing off.
KA-PLUNK! I heard something on the other side make a plasticy shattering noise.
About a dozen little pieces limboed under the door, and formed a neat pile in the middle of the tile floor. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I knew that if this was a dream, it was one I was never going to forget. Two bricks in the pile popped themselves together. I snatched a bar of soap from the little wire rack hanging from the showerhead.
The little pile of Legos was slowly turning itself into something, but I couldn't tell what just yet. I was partly puzzled and amused by the amazing thing I was witnessing, and partly terrified... why were these Legos trying to hurt me?
There was no longer a pile in the middle of the floor. Standing in the middle of the bathroom was a little Lego robot... it was really an amazing robot model; it would have probably at least gotten a photo in any Lego-builder's magazine. About a foot and a half tall, it had two little plastic feet, perfect spring-flexed knees, hips, arms, and little pincer claws for hands. Its head looked like a cartoon robot, square with two little circle pieces for eyes.
The robot was looking at me. At least, it sure seemed to be looking at me. I slid my wet feet across the bathtub, and the little pink plastic eyes followed my movement. Very creepy. It moved one leg forward, put its foot down, then made a little yelp and picked the foot up and held it in it's little hands. Heeheeheeheeheeee, it said to me.
Make fun of me and my hurting feet, will you? I'll cram your boxy head into your shiny plastic butt, I thought. I looked at the bar of soap in my hands. I threw it at the Lego robot. The robot shattered.
On the floor, all around the broken pieces of the robot, other Legos had slowly gathered around and made formation... all lined up in neat little rows, each type in a group by itself. Probably half of the legos in the house.
I put one foot out of the tub. Ten pointy Legos whisked to the spot on the floor just under my foot. The foot decided the tub was better.
The robot was back. Only, now all those extra pieces weren't laying around anymore. This robot was five feet tall. It look almost... human, in a way. It had shiny blue eyes with little black pupils in the middle, a mouth made of out lots of little flexible pieces, hands with four fingers and a thumb on each, two feet with five wiggling toes each. I could see a little plastic contraption pulsing in its chest.
"You will not take a single step this way. Do you understand?", I said.
The robot took a step towards me.
"Stop right there. I will SO turn you into cute little spaceships if you even TRY to touch me."
The robot raised its bumpy black eyebrows, lifted its arm, and popped one of its eyes off. It held it out at me, winked the remaining eye, and threw the little Lego eyeball at me. It bounced off my forehead and fell down my shirt, wiggling. Plastic fingers picked up fresh Legos off the floor and stuck the new eye back into the empty socket.
I jumped out of the bathtub and swung at the plastic jerk in front of me. My fist connected, shattering it into hundreds of little pieces. I kicked the rest of it out of my way and yanked open the bathroom door...
All the way down the hall, in neat little clusters, were pointy little Legos, waiting to make suitable impressions on my soft feet. I closed the door.
Thirty seconds later, I opened the door again and strode out of the bathroom, my feet wrapped in fluffy rolls of toilet paper. I suppose I could have made it to the end of the hall, if I had ducked.
As it was, the Lego cannonball hit me in the middle of the chest, knocking me flat onto my back... onto all those neat little clusters of pointy things. I lay there, gasping for air and moaning, until I felt something bump against the bottoms of my paper-ensconced feet. I lifted my head up and looked.
There, at my feet, on complicated Lego-borne tracks, was a miniature tank, made entirely of those awful plastic bricks. It paused for just a second, then rolled over me. I was just drifting away into unconsciousness when I heard the front door open.
I woke up in the hallway floor this morning.
All of our Legos are gone.