Hubby brought down his old Legos from the attic last summer and Nathaniel fell in love. My boys had a lot of great bonding time that involved son telling father which Lego plane/truck/space ship to build next. And then after a day or so, which one to repair after he played too rough or his little sister wandered into his room.
But while Hubby was busy
Once he decapitated every last one, he had more than the bottle could hold. They were in a small red Lego wagon of some sort, and then after we added birthday and Christmas gifts, they migrated to a small book box.
What he did with them, I really can't tell you. He called it a game and mostly just dumped them out and put them back in whatever container they were living in that day. It drives me bonkers, so I try to ignore it. I resist the urge almost daily to spend my afternoon reuniting all the heads and bodies. Lord only knows how many have already been lost.
When Nathaniel's tractor-loving friend came to play Monday, the boys were content to harvest for hours. They worked mostly in his room, but by the time they came downstairs, the grain silo had something in it.
Yup, you guessed it.
Lego heads make good corn seeds. Or so I've been told.
That was fine by me, it just meant the heads were living somewhere new. Until I did laundry the next day.
When I pulled all the clothes out of his hamper, I found no less than five Lego heads. He admitted that the little sisters had come in during the harvest and it got a little rowdy. Somehow Leah's hippo pillow pet was to blame. Bad pillow pet.
I should have known I would keep finding heads everywhere.
This guy didn't make it out of the clothes in time.
Since he never uses the bodies, I have no idea how this guy even made it into the hamper. But he's nice and shiny clean and warm now.
I couldn't leave him all Ichabod Crane-ish, so I gave him some time together with his noggin. I carried the little guy up to Nathaniel's room and put it next to the
Poor thing doesn't stand a chance.