the puzzle of death

Luc, who just turned four (!!!), loves jigsaw puzzles. This is not a casual fling, but a full on appreciation and commitment to daily puzzling. That’s right, he does several puzzles a day, and then likes to make puzzles of the puzzles by fitting completed puzzles together, filling the entire available floor space with them. I’m telling you, he is hardcore.

I wanted to take a picture of him standing beside his pile of puzzles, because he is quite pleased that the puzzle pile is taller than he is, but he wouldn’t let me. He is very camera shy. So you’ll have to imagine a pleased little boy beside a couple dozen boxes of assorted sizes. Go ahead and imagine that now, I’ll wait.

Many of Luc’s puzzles have come from yard sales or thrift stores, but lately, knowing how well used they will be, I’ve been buying some new puzzles, especially if it is a picture he really likes. We have also been telling people “puzzles” when they ask what to get him for presents. And as Luc just had a birthday, we just received several new puzzles.

One of these new puzzles nearly killed me dead.

Here it is when we first dumped out the pieces:

The pieces are freaking TINY. I mean, they’re less than an inch across. And the whole puzzle is blue. Except for a girl in a yellow dress.

I think I hate that girl in the yellow dress.

Luc worked and worked on this puzzle. We all worked on this puzzle. As did any and all guests coming through, conscripted labor. It was an event for anyone to get a piece. Getting two or three constituted a “good session.” This went on for days and days.

It occupied the center of the yurt, so you couldn’t get away from it. We ate our meals, hunched over the puzzle.

I’m telling you, it took over our lives! Not only that, I got terrible back pain from this stupid puzzle! After one session I came up for air with a throbbing headache—all those shades of blue, blurring together, heaven save me…. There is probably an outer circle of hell where you have to sit and solve tiny puzzles with ugly pictures for all of eternity. At least this one wasn’t ugly.

But we did it! One day we completed the puzzle! Sing Hallelujah!

I really didn’t get the appeal of puzzles as a child, myself. Why do all that work when you can look at the picture on the box? Luc has really taught me about process over product. Now I find I really enjoy doing puzzles with him. I love having a shared activity, the two of us working side by side, having little conversations. Or just being quiet. It’s delightful.

Except for the back pain. That part sucks.

Once we finished the Puzzle of Death Infinite Torture (I did survive, after all), I decided I would tame it. Never again would I get a headache trying to put that fucker together. So here is what I did:

With Luc’s permission, I taped the backs together, three or four pieces at a time, making, effectively, larger pieces.

Now Luc can do this puzzle by himself if he wishes, and it takes MUCH less time. Whew.

We call Luc the Puzzle Master, but he insists that he is not a Puzzle Master, he has just “done a lot of puzzles, so I knows where the pieces go.” I say, what’s the diff? But it matters to him. He’s a humble guy.

Finally, for anyone suffering from Puzzle Back, I offer this, THE Puzzle Back antidote. I’m not even kidding a little tiny bit, this trick rocks for back pain caused by hunching over. Try it the next time you’ve been chained to a puzzle. You’ll thank me.

Luc, we bow before your puzzle mastery, however you choose to name it.