Lego Pest.
Our boys have The Curse. The Curse is this: when I can’t remember the name of something or someone, I assign the closest thing to it (or the person) that I can remember and it curses us all, because that actually morphs into its/the person’s name.
Confusing? (Aside from being awkwardly worded – sheesh.)
Yep.
Example: one of our neighbors was dubbed “Shawn-Shane” because I couldn’t remember if his name was “Sean” or “Shane”. Hank hated me for it, because then he couldn’t remember either. Lucky for us, his last name has a well-remembered meaning for us, so after an initial few months of that business, we reassigned his name to his true one. Yay team.
For our children? Holden renamed our friend, Ryan, “Danny-Ryan”, and Ewan renamed Danny-Ryan’s daughter, Emarie, “Henry”. So now we all have. Adam Levine is now “Adam Labean”, and this year’s Lego Fest?
You got it.
Lego Pest.
We were so excited to go to Lego Pest.
Spoiler alert: Hi, remember me? The girl who can’t seem to understand white balance intricacies inside a weirdly lit place? Welcome to wonky colors and weird shadows.
But also, welcome to one of the coolest places on the planet.
All of the figures are made entirely of Legos. Wowza.
Probably by guys like this one.
Why ‘ello, ‘arry. (Please use your best cockney, there, thank you.)
I might have a special fascination with the Star Wars guys.
Yet sadly, no Yoda there was.
And I have no idea how they made Legos sexy, but here you go. Batman? Hubba hubba.
Then there was this. Holy. Schmoly.
It was an entire field of Legos that you walked on (something I try to seriously avoid at home because it really, really hurts and always makes me say bad words), found a spot, sat down, and started building.
It was absolutely insane. I had the weirdest indentations on my butt and knees (yes, I know this because I went into the restroom for the sole purpose of checking myself out), and I am quite certain that the smaller Legos somehow found themselves into the weird place where my jeans cuff at the back of my feet because they drag the floor a little bit AND into my kids’ underwear, just like the sand at the park. We’ll be finding those tiny bricks for days.
At one point, the man sitting next to me shifted over a little, and suddenly I rode a tiny avalanche of Legos down nearly into his lap, at which point I exclaimed a little too loudly, “Dude! You gotta warn a person before you move suddenly in here!”
He laughed. And then got a little embarrassed. And then so did I and it was awkward and I had to float on my back like I was in quicksand just to get out.
I even lost a flip flop in there.
It taught me a couple of things about my boys, though. I sort of already knew this stuff, but I hadn’t seen it as clearly until today. Our smallest one looks at chaos, then finds a comfy spot within it and settles in for the fun he finds there.
Our bigger one jumps into chaos with both feet, then realizes he’s in and wants out, claiming boredom, aka seeking freedom.
Dude just needs a chance to catch his breath.
It was cool to watch.
Also cool to watch… the last Lego adventure of the day.
Ninjago battles.
I didn’t even know of such a thing.
But we left with one of those battle stadiums, because some Lego Master dropped by our battle arena to give the boys two Ninjago battling skeleton thingies of their very own.
And one last thing?
Brilliant.
Hope your Sunday was a Funday.
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