When JJ was three, my friend Jamie told me her son Jack (just five months older than Jake), loved Legos and could spend hours entertaining himself with these little plastic bricks. At the time, we had had a fire truck for about a year that was super complex to put together and once it had been disassembled, impossible to recreate without the instructions.
Two years went by. We got some Duplos (bigger Legos for littler fingers). They were met with a “meh”. The Lego gifts kept coming and I was a bit torn.
On the one hand, Legos seem like the quintessential “learning” toy. Chock a block with problem-solving opportunities, creativity, and possibility. Hours of mommy time? Too good to be true?
Maybe my kids just aren’t “Lego kids” I thought to myself.
Which on the other hand… might be OK. Have you ever seen people’s houses that are “into Legos?” Giant bins full of thousands of bricks. Lego sculptures in display cases as works of art. And have you stepped on Legos in the dark? Rainbow pieces of glass. But instead of stabbing into your feet they just stick to them so you can stumble around in the dark, stabbing yourself repeatedly until you scrape them off on the floor vent so as to melt in your heating ducts.
So I could go either way.
Currently there’s this ad for milk on the radio that is absolutely aimed at our demographic. The man has a deep Superman-esque voice and states, “This is you, from the future. That’s right Oliver, you’re only five-and-half now, but eventually you’ll grow up to be me: a pro baseball player and Minecraft champion with a massive house made out of Lego bricks. Just like you hoped. You could get sweet muscles and amazing teeth, and hair so shiny everyone will copy your hair style and you’ll be like: ‘Stop copying me you guys…‘” (excerpt from www.gotmilk.com > radio ads > “Oliver”). James and I think this commercial is hilarious. Nate and Jake just look at us and blink.
And just like the ad, Jacob turned five-and-a-half and he finally “got” Legos. He could “read” the instructions and put together elaborate helicopters and some kind of bad guy ducky “vehicle” I encountered last night. The kid can barely follow two-step instructions to hang-up his towel and put his pajamas on, but when it comes to Legos, he can follow fifty-three steps unassissted, resulting in an impressive Batcopter.
At Christmas I tried helping him and I have to say, the instructions are slightly addictive. It was like a satisfying treasure hunt involving tiny Barbie earring-sized elements that you stack and stack until you have something big with “boosters.” The boys are all about boosters… and “jet packs.”
But now he’s getting Lego fever. He tells me he loves Star Wars. He’s never seen Star Wars. He tells me Stuart needs to come over with his giant bin of Legos.
Me:”Why does he need to bring his Legos? Don’t we have enough Legos?”
Jake: “No, we need way more Legos. So we can build a LEGO LAND.” Picture sweeping visionary arm gesture.
Me: “I’m sure we have enough for a Lego Land.”
Jake: “No, no. We really only have enough for like… a Lego State.”