If you've seen "The Lego Movie," that title likely triggered an earworm that is more persistent than Chekov's parasite in 'Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.' (I am a very happy gigantic nerd.)
My kids have seen the movie. My older two have seen it twice, and I am so very happy that it has re-ignited their love of all things Lego. My oldest boy has persistently, ardently loved Lego for many years now. But he drifted into the kit zone. 'The kit zone,' in my completely made-up parlance, is the zone in which a kid thinks s/he can construct ONLY the thing in the instructions.
The underlying message of The Lego Movie is: Dude, you can mix and match and do whatever the heck you want with Lego.
And so they have...
My coffee table is currently decorated by roughly one billion Lego. Among them are a cannibalized Joker's play set (currently occupied by Superman, the Human Torch, a hairless Indiana Jones-lookin' sumbitch, Patrick the Starfish, and a pink fairy), half a Star Wars pleasure barge, and some 'Friends' pink and purple and purple and pink blocks.
Most precious to me, though, is the 'house' that my oldest boy and my daughter co-constructed. According to the two of them, within it, you will find two families -- my son's and my daughter's fantasy families -- having a dinner party. The menu? Pizza. Here, take a look:
I'm not really sure what the trophy's about? Being awesome?
My son's family comprises his wife and his son, whereas my daughter's family (whom you can't see) comprises a boyfriend/partner (she don't need no ring!) and they have two adopted children.
(I don't know who the angry dude through the doorway is. Maybe my youngest son? Who is the opposite of angry at the tender age of 4. Maybe my other kids think he will become embittered with age?)
I love this. Love it like I love coffee. Which is a lot, let me tell you. Anyway, maybe (read: certainly) I am reading too much into this, but I feel like if my 9-year-old son and 7-year-old daughter are envisioning futures where they are partnered up with wives and boyfriends and raising children, that maybe they feel like my husband and I are doing an OK job.
My kids have seen the movie. My older two have seen it twice, and I am so very happy that it has re-ignited their love of all things Lego. My oldest boy has persistently, ardently loved Lego for many years now. But he drifted into the kit zone. 'The kit zone,' in my completely made-up parlance, is the zone in which a kid thinks s/he can construct ONLY the thing in the instructions.
The underlying message of The Lego Movie is: Dude, you can mix and match and do whatever the heck you want with Lego.
And so they have...
My coffee table is currently decorated by roughly one billion Lego. Among them are a cannibalized Joker's play set (currently occupied by Superman, the Human Torch, a hairless Indiana Jones-lookin' sumbitch, Patrick the Starfish, and a pink fairy), half a Star Wars pleasure barge, and some 'Friends' pink and purple and purple and pink blocks.
Most precious to me, though, is the 'house' that my oldest boy and my daughter co-constructed. According to the two of them, within it, you will find two families -- my son's and my daughter's fantasy families -- having a dinner party. The menu? Pizza. Here, take a look:
I'm not really sure what the trophy's about? Being awesome?
My son's family comprises his wife and his son, whereas my daughter's family (whom you can't see) comprises a boyfriend/partner (she don't need no ring!) and they have two adopted children.
(I don't know who the angry dude through the doorway is. Maybe my youngest son? Who is the opposite of angry at the tender age of 4. Maybe my other kids think he will become embittered with age?)
I love this. Love it like I love coffee. Which is a lot, let me tell you. Anyway, maybe (read: certainly) I am reading too much into this, but I feel like if my 9-year-old son and 7-year-old daughter are envisioning futures where they are partnered up with wives and boyfriends and raising children, that maybe they feel like my husband and I are doing an OK job.
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