There are two types of people in a marriage: the one who thinks, “We should probably declutter,” and the one who thinks, “You know what this house really needs? A 4,000-piece LEGO set.”
Not just any set, either. A massive, shelf-dominating monument that takes days to build and comes with the sacred rule: look, but do not touch. Which, as it turns out, is a completely reasonable expectation… if you don’t have small children. Unfortunately, small children are basically tiny chaos goblins who hear “don’t touch” and immediately black out like they’ve been Confunded.
This, apparently, is the latest phase in my husband’s ever-expanding fandom empire.
You would think anime, video games, painting miniatures, playing D&D, and devouring books like a caffeine-fueled wizard during finals week would be enough hobbies for one man. But no. Somewhere along the line, he either found a gap in our budget… or a Time-Turner he’s refusing to disclose to the rest of us.
Because mathematically? There is no way.
He now has more hobbies than I have hoodies. And I own a concerning number of hoodies.
And we’re not talking about the cute little LEGO sets you casually build in an afternoon. No. These are the large ones. The ones with their own gravitational pull. The kind that demand an entire day, a clear schedule, and possibly a minor blood sacrifice to complete.
The kind that take up so much space they should honestly start contributing to rent.
Meanwhile, I’m over here in full “let’s get our lives together” mode—sorting through old toys, unused clothes, and gifts we somehow still haven’t opened—while he’s in the background summoning new objects into the house like he’s mastered some kind of advanced storage spell.
And honestly? If there is a secret magical closet where all this stuff is going… I would really appreciate being looped in. It would save me a lot of time and at least three emotional breakdowns in the hallway.
Until then, I will continue my role as Head Negotiator of the Household:
mediating high-stakes treaties between small, grabby children and extremely expensive LEGO structures…
while gently reminding my husband that we do not, in fact, need every single LEGO Star Wars ship ever created.
Even if they are “limited edition.”
Even if they “connect.”
Witch, Please 
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