365 days spent collecting broken bits of toys from playgrounds, smashed phones off sidewalks, and all the odds and ends of birthday party gift bags.
Hundreds of little bits of plastic, metal, wood, and rubber.
Half an hour of reminiscing about the smell of molten glue being the smell of my childhood during the heyday of glue gun. Fabric covered photo albums. Good times.
Twenty minutes of agonizing over the placement of every piece.
Fifteen minutes play for every ten minutes creating.
Eight robots for Birdie.
Two for Smootch.
One raised eyebrow.
Nobody who minds gathering up all the little robot parts the world leaves in our paths.