Unbreakable

When I was a kid I thought that everything that could be put together could be taken apart and then put back together again. Cuz really, what are we but made up of little atomic building block pieces? *POP* Skeletor's plastic head comes off. *POP* Skeletor's head goes back on. Simple.

That's when I was a kid. Then I got a bit older and realized that there was a small subclass of things that were harder to put back together than to take apart. --Still possible, mind you. Just harder. Take mom's fancy dishes for example. Easily knocked from the cabinet when playing murder-ball in the dining room in full hockey gear, but harder to put back together than Skeletor's head or my own dismembered corpse. But, with the right glue (and I'm talking some futuristic, invisible super-glue here) and expert hands (of somebody who spent lots of time with building blocks) those plates would look brand spanking new and be right back behind the glass of the cabinet faster than you could say, "What the heck is he blabbing on about?"

So then I got even older. That's when cold, harsh reality set in. Yeah, it was about time for me to grow up and realize that maybe not everything could be put back together exactly like it was. Like, well, the rebuilt Germany after WWII was probably not exactly the same as it had been before. And a cottage-cheese replica of the Louvre would probably never be the same once it was left in the sun for 2 days after being sneezed on by Lionel Ritche's daughter. Oh, well. Maybe not everything can be put back together again.

Anyway, I gotta go replace a lightbulb in my bathroom (it's easier than fixing it).