It wasn’t my son Benjamin’s mistake, it was mine. I had transformed a toy designed for adventure, exploration, building, and destroying, into a museum. I had transformed it into something static. I was teaching my son that life has to be lived according to a handbook and when you finish something, you put it on show in order to observe it and show others your work of art.
My son was refusing to be controlled by that way of thinking. Of course, he wanted to assemble the plane, but he also wanted to destroy it and after that, assemble a boat with the remaining pieces. He wanted to assemble a different world every day—today spaceships and planets, tomorrow boats and pirates. He wasn’t willing to stay in the ordinary world