Ah, the joys of LEGO Star Wars. The painful stats:
Number of pieces: 1,328 (approx.)
Number of hours wasted in construction: about 7
Number of hours wasted in rebuilding after it fell apart: 2
Number of hours spent explaining that although, yes, OK, this is a toy, it’s not really designed to be played with: 612
Number of 8-year-old tantrums: 2
Number of 39-year-old tantrums: 17
Number of pithy sentences I might have written instead of building this: prefer not to think about this one
Comments 2
Where have the days gone when you had to improvise with the little squares and the excitement of getting a few ‘flatties’ with which to create a more realistic aeroplane. This afternoon I found the puppy chewing happily on the instructions for creating the Power Miners 8956 and wrestled it hysterically from him.
This, however, is not anywhere near as bad as spending 3 hours building a super trouper megatastic battle star destroyer transporter thingy, only to discover that a certain 4 year old has run off with the vital small grey piece of plastic that allows the wing to move realistically. Armed with the memory of a goldfish, aforementioned 4 year old can no longer remember where he put the critical component, so 8 year old demonstrates just how little time it takes to destroy a super trouper megatastic battle star destroyer transporter thingy in his fit of pique.
Determined to wean myself of the habit of keeping all instructions and deconstructing the hoover every time I hear that terribly clacking sound of a plastic pick-up, I have turned the children’s attention to jigsaw puzzles. Theoretically these are good for spatial awareness, are cheap(ish), should encourage teamwork between the children and maybe even instill a bit of patience. However, I have already proved my ongoing skill of skewed logic where my children are concerned. The dog has also done his best to contribute by eating any pieces that end up on the floor and I have had to negotiate a peace treaty in the ‘who is going to put in the last piece’ fight (I had one in my pocket).
My nemesis today came in the form of a 540 piece metallic puzzle ball atlas (rainy day purchase). The 8 year old’s interest lasted as long as it took him to realise that there was more to it than just finding the pieces to make Brazil. The 10 year old managed a couple of hours. Which left me with something looking akin to the partially built death star in Star Wars 6 and too fragile to put back in the box. Like Ellen McArthur, I was doing fine until confronted by the vast Southern Ocean. So I confess – I resorted to using the numbers on the back of the pieces to fit it together. 5 hours later it was complete – I stood it in the stand for my suitably admiring audience. Five minutes later the 8 year old informed me that ‘one of the pieces has fallen inside’. Arghhhhhh.
Now the question is – did he fall or was he pushed?
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