Ethan played his cute card. He went all Bambie-eyes on Sam, and convinced him to build a lego star wars ship for him. Unfortunately, this is never an easy prospect in this house- other than that first time it comes out of the box. And that, of course, is assuming the box hasn't been open for more than five minutes.
So I got roped into digging through containers and containers (and containers) of legos. We need a piece that looks like this, but it has to be gray. No, light gray. No, not that light gray, this light gray.
Two hours later, I buried my head in the container on my lap. Sam patted me on the back. “I have hate,” I muttered. “That seems like a bad thing to have,” he said back. “You made this hate!” I pretended to be working under the impression that he would not be able to hear me unless I yelled. “I don't think that's possible,” he said absently. I pulled my head out of the box, lego stuck to my forehead, and glared at him. “Or, maybe it is,” he responded to my look.
I looked around at the tens of thousands of bricks that surrounded us. “I can go now?” I asked. “Well, no, we're not done. I still need your help.” I put my glare back on. “I can go now?” After a short pause as he analyzed my mood- “Yes, ma'am.”