It all started with one seemingly harmless family dinner. My brother Ben had brought his nine-year-old son, Jason, over for the evening—a laid-back get-together that should have ended as a cozy memory. Instead, it kicked off a miniature crime spree we never saw coming.
The Disappearing LEGO
My boys, Toby and Max, share my passion for creating elaborate LEGO dioramas. Every so often, we build a new scene—bank robbers evading cops, haunted castles, superhero team-ups—and tuck it away in the house, waiting for someone to spot it. It’s our little secret pastime.
That night, Jason discovered nearly all of them, his excitement filling the room. “Dad! Look! A creeper in Hogwarts! A bank robber behind the sofa!” It was sweet to see his enthusiasm—until the next morning, when Toby noticed some were missing.
“Mom,” Toby said grimly, “the Chewbacca mini-figure and that Minecraft creeper we hid in the library scene? Gone.”
We searched the entire house. Max was sure Jason must’ve taken them, but I told him not to jump to conclusions—maybe they’d just fallen behind a shelf. But when we couldn’t find them, it seemed likely Jason had snuck them out.
I called Ben that afternoon. He laughed it off, promising to return them next time he visited. “They’re just toys,” he said dismissively. But to me—and to my kids—those LEGO builds were more than toys: they were our bonding moments, captured in miniature plastic.
Broken Promises
One week turned into two, then a full month. Each time we talked, Ben claimed he’d “forgotten” to bring the missing LEGO sets back. My boys grew more and more upset, and honestly, so did I.
By Christmas, it was obvious he had no intention of returning anything. That’s when I decided enough was enough.
“Alright, Toby and Max,” I announced, “we’re going to teach your uncle a bit about ‘borrowing.’”
The boys’ eyes lit up at my plan. We made a pact: at Ben’s upcoming New Year’s BBQ, we’d stage our own little heist.
Operation Payback
At the barbecue, I cornered Ben near the grill. “Hey, remember those LEGO sets your son took? Could you go grab them for me before we head out?”
Ben shrugged, flipping a burger. “Oh, forgot again. Sorry, sis—maybe next time.”
That was all I needed to hear. I gave Toby a subtle nod to set our plan in motion.
While Ben mingled, Toby and Max discreetly wandered around the house, snagging items dear to Ben: a couple of fancy bottle koozies, some remote controls, and even his prized Bluetooth speakers from the kitchen counter. The final blow? They found his dog, Cooper, looking forlorn and ready to tag along.
Fortunately, I caught them at the car just in time. “We’re not stealing his dog!” I hissed, ushering Cooper back inside. “Everything else, though, stays in the trunk for now.”
The Shock and The Showdown
It didn’t take long for Ben to notice. My phone blew up with calls as soon as we got home.
“Carly!” he shouted the moment I answered. “All my stuff is missing—my remotes, my speakers—this is insane!”
I let him rant, then replied sweetly, “Oh, that is frustrating. Like when someone takes things and never returns them, don’t you think?”
His silence was deafening. After a beat, his voice trembled with anger. “This isn’t funny!”
I exhaled slowly, keeping my composure. “Ben, you know what to do. Bring back the LEGO sets, and maybe I can locate your missing items. Otherwise, I guess they’re lost, huh?”
Sure enough, less than an hour later, his car screeched into my driveway. He stomped to the door, face flushed, arms laden with the stolen LEGO builds—and a few extra sets he’d decided to give back as a peace offering.
“Here,” he muttered, shoving them at me.
I handed him a bag with his things. “Lesson learned?”
He pursed his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Message received.”
A Victory for Fair Play
As Ben’s taillights disappeared, Toby and Max practically danced with glee. “Mom,” Toby said, “you’re kind of terrifying. But in a good way.”
I grinned at my two conspirators. Sometimes, you just have to speak the language the other person understands—especially when that language is playful revenge. And if Uncle Ben thinks twice before pocketing our LEGO next time, well, mission accomplished.
