Yesterday I gave you a glimpse into my world of Lego contruction. I am but a mere novice.
The Retired Husband (from now on to be called Himself) is far more seasoned. Yet even he had to call on The Master for help. Many times. Admittedly not as many as me.
In my defence, his kit was smaller. Less bags. Less pieces. 1,351 to be precise. 436 steps. It stands 14cm high, 44cm long and 32cm wide. One other minor detail – this kit is for NINE year olds.
Mine was for TEN. Just thought I would mention that minor, but important, detail.
As you can see from the picture on the right, lego building has gone to a whole other level at that end of the table, HE had a head light. I relied on my failing eyesight. Just another minor detail.
I must say it is impressive in the detail that lies under the hood. You know, the thing that all men just have to swing open to see what lies beneath. This is what is there –
- 7 LEGO® Star Wars™ characters: Finn, Chewbacca, C-3PO, Lando Calrissian and Boolio minifigures, plus R2-D2 and D-O LEGO droid figures.
- external features include a rotating top and bottom gun turrets (bottom turret fits 2 minifigures), 2 spring-loaded shooters, a lowering ramp and an opening cockpit with space for 2 minifigures.
- Interior details include a cargo area with 2 containers, navigation computer with rotating chair, couch and Dejarik hologame table, galley, bunk, hidden smuggling compartment and a hyperdrive with repair tools.
- Weapons include Chewbacca’s stud-firing bowcaster, Finn’s blaster and Lando’s blaster.
Of course, being a smaller kit, Himself finished before me. It was therefore time to play. Missiles were fired willy nilly. Luckily the four legged assistant did not find them of any interest. They were not edible.
We, The Master and I, had been glued to that construction table for many days. Many, many days. Long enough for me to suffer LegoBrain. Many, many times.
One of several things happens in this state of lego fatigue I have discovered. One day, someone will research this phenomena, I am sure.
- You can no long find pieces. You become convinced they are totally missing in action. And the construction will be RUINED!! Panic starts. Hyperventilation is dangerously close. Until in the dim recesses of memory something reminds you to call The Master for help. You just manage to whisper a desperate Help! He finds the elusive piece in a microsecond. It snaps you back to reality.
- You cannot work out where the brick goes. It doesn’t. However you try. A gentle push. No. A more vigorous shove. No. A damn it to hell push, shove and twist that breaks more than the piece you want to fit in. It just does not go in. It’s wrong. There is no hope. You have no idea how to fix it. Or even if it can be fixed. Again, out of the pits of despair you whimper Help! The Master magically makes it fit. Maybe with a tweak or two. This too snaps you back to reality. If it does not, you are in deep poo poo.
- You swear. A lot.
- To your utter delight and amazement you find that after a gazillion light years you can actually read the instructions and there a less desperate cries of Help!
To my relief, I have learnt from lived experience that Lego brain is a transitory thing. As long as you know when to stop and rest. Once the early stages of LegoBrain stage has been reached you know without a shadow of doubt that it is time to down the bricks. You just need to learn the early warning signs. Like increased swearing. Increased tension. Mounting fear. Sweating. Lego instruction blindness. It’s time to Have a Break. Return with refreshed vision. And a light heart.
Himself will now need to construct a display something or other on which to showcase all these masterpieces.