That Time I Won A Lego Competition

When I was seven, my father took my twin sister and me to a Lego competition at the local mall. This was unusual because my sister and I were not Lego children. We were full-blooded Playmobile Victorian Mansion girls who were more intent on decorating the three-story, stately manor and posing the dolls than actually having the dolls interact. Furthermore, the only Legos we had ever snapped together were ones that even the most ambitious toddler couldn’t shove down their throat. I myself would choose Tinker Toys over the Humongous Legos, but I think that was due more to my preference for the smell of the wood than the Tinker Toy’s aesthetic qualities.

Anyway, to the outrage to every other parent besides my own, I somehow managed to win the Lego Competition. After realizing my ambitions were hampered by my lack of skills as I struggled to build a Lego version of Shamu’s tank, I decided to build a shack.

Yes. A shack.

I made my shack as big and tall of a square as my allotted Legos allowed (aka not very) and topped it off with a ripped square of tinfoil for the roof. For the finishing touch, I found a piece of string and roped it around the little Lego blocks I twisted at odd angles to represent the crumbling stone lions at the shack’s doorway.

To this day, my father, sister, and I have no idea how I won the competition. If my Lego Win is ever mentioned, my father laughs until he cries when he remembers the shock on the photographer’s face when he realized the first place sticker on the table was for the measly little box in front of him. I mean, in all seriousness, it truly was a sad and pathetic shack. Other kids had built helicopters! Castles! The Empire State building WITH King Kong! They didn’t even place! But what won the grand prize? Yep, that would be the little four-walled thing with absolutely no rhyme or reason to the color scheme and topped with tin foil.

I think my triumphant win had something to do with the fact that even at seven, I would blabber non-stop about anything and everything whenever I found myself in proximity to someone with working ears. To my ultimate advantage, the Lego Competition included an interview portion:

Man: Hello little girl!

Me: Hi!

Man: What’s YOUR name?

Me: Shannon! What’s YOURS?

Man (clearly taken aback by the enthusiasm of a garrulous seven-year-old): Mike.

Me (primly): It’s very nice to meet you, Mike (extends hand to shake Mike’s).

Man: (shocked at the extent of my training) Well! Ahem. Um. What have YOU made today?

Me: (proudly) A SHACK.

Man: Excuse me?

Me: A shack!

Man: (raises eyebrows and gently prodding the box with tinfoil and string) Um. Okay. Do you mind telling me about your… shack?

He asked the fatal question and my mouth went off running about my shack. I can’t remember all what I shared about it, but I do remember my shack was tucked away in the woods and a home to all the animals in the forest. Although there were holes in the roof, it let the sunshine in and kept enough of the rain out to keep the chipmunks safe and toasty. At the time, I wanted more than anything to be a veterinarian when I grew up and, as a result, I think it was the combination of my obsessively verbally detailed shack, my overly articulate love of animals, and how I managed to connect this shack to my future career that won me my first place prize: a $50 Savings Bond and a Sand Bottle kit.