My Dad was an engineer so I had lots of toys for which building was a part of the playing. We had an infinite number of Legos and Tinker Toys and an Erector Set that sort of scared me in its complexity. In fact, I don’t remember doing much with that one, although I remember my Dad building things. Ah, I see what he did there, sneaky bugger. Even with him stealing my toys, I had a fantastic time building stuff.
I say “stuff” because it describes the kinds of things that kids build. I made a few neat and tidy square homes and the requisite ladders, but most of what I built was entirely out of my imagination and therefore completely undefinable by any adult standards. I once made a Tinker Toy creation that led all the way from the living room, around a corner and into the kitchen. It had nine bazillion plastic flags and wooden bits sticking out of it at every angle and I called it “Sticky.”
The problem with Sticky was that he was underfoot. Despite maneuvering around him for several days, a nearly disastrous tumble over a particularly large bit as my Dad walked out the door to work one morning resulted in the dismantling of my creation by dinner. Yet, as much as I loved Sticky and playing with Tinker Toys, they paled compared to Lincoln Logs.