I saw a cute little lego castle – and it was Frozen, so I thought GREAT. I bought it before the scalpers could jump the price up to even higher than legos are normally priced. I figured, hey, the girls and I love Frozen and building the thing together should be tons of fun!
I am very dumb sometimes!
See, what I didn’t realize was that the castle would be so small. By small I mean like slightly over microscopic. This is not to say there is no detail, oh no. There is a LOT of detail. Like 5 thousand pieces worth or so. The box claims there are only 292 pieces, but I think they’re lying. I personally would have given up on the first level (yeah there are three) but luckily I had Thing Two with me, the Master Builder.
You might notice on the box that it says this set is for ages 6-12. WTF. I happen to be much older than 12, and I was about to lose it. I can only imagine a six year old putting this thing together, unless said six year old is incredibly brilliant and dexterous and comes from Oz which is probably also a set made by Lego in 5 billion pieces. My Thing Two is ten, and yes happens to be brilliant, so brilliant she made her own youtube channel right under my nose on the computer in the living room after I told her not to do it and also made her own videos which I don’t even know how to do. I didn’t discover this until 2 months later. That’s how to be a “with-it” parent, you guys.
In this instance, her devious tenacity came in very handy. After only 6 or 70 hours or so, we had the entire thing together. By “we”, I mean “she”, although she did allow me to put some pieces in, as she said “So you can feel involved, Mommy.” Here is a picture of our fabulous work.
It really is a very neat set. It comes with three figures – Anna, Elsa, and Olaf. Olaf gets his own picnic set like in the movie, which was great cause I could just shove him over to the side that way. There’s also a sled which Anna and Elsa can ride, as well as ice skates, and skis, and a tiny hill they can slide down or hide cookies inside, if they choose. I don’t know why they’d choose this, but whatever.
You’ll notice the side of the castle has some cool stairs. Those were neat. There’s also a tree. Don’t ask Thing Two about the tree. It about drove even her over the edge since the instructions told us in intimate detail how to put together the three parts of Elsa but not any steps on making the dumb tree.
Inside on the first floor is an ice cream and popsickle machine. I don’t recall this being in the movie, but then again, Elsa had no furniture that I could tell in the movie. I guess she was too busy running around doing dramatic Broadway numbers to care. Anyway, it’s cute.
Upstairs you’ve got Elsa’s balcony so she can belt out her “Let it Go” tune for the 564,493,206 time. Also she has a bed and a book to read – it looks like it’s the Snow Queen. I bet she didn’t like the reading there. There’s probably a reason they named the villain after the original author.
On the top story there’s mostly just a seat and a torch. Not sure how the torch doesn’t burn down the castle, but I guess it’s her magical powers and all that. Anna has a torch to hold as well, in case she gets mad at Elsa and decides to test those magical powers. Elsa was supposed to have a frozen scepter, though that got left out of the set. Fortunately we have an extra arm for Olaf, more giant cookies, and other extras we didn’t need to make up for it.
Kristoff, Sven (he’s the reindeer), and my favorite sociopath, Prince Hans, are not in this set. I hope they make another set soon so I can add them to my collection after Thing Two builds it for me. Right now, the three have to play with Vadar whose head fell off and a Ninjago figure. She does have some handcuffs, though, which will come in handy when we get a Hans figure.
Hope you enjoyed this review and be warned. Legos are cool, but evil.
Remember Jeff Foxworthy’s “You Might Be a Redneck . . .” bit? I do, because thanks to my husband, our family qualifies for quite a few of those. Anyway, I was thinking that the same thing could be applied to parents. Hence my blog post for today. If any of you have something to add, please do so in the comments!
You might be a parent if . . .
You have thousands of markers in your house, and every one is missing a lid.
You have the theme to Dora the Explorer on repeat in your head.
You aren’t sure who is on the Supreme Court, but can name every one of the seven dwarves.
In a sleep deprived daze you have lost your car keys, purse, phone, diaper bag, glasses, lunch, child, and your sanity.
You get so tired of reading the same children’s book that you start making up your own words to the story that might possibly involve stuffed animals going on a rampage.
If a genie asked if you wanted fame, wealth, or eternal life, you would choose sleep.
One time while dropping off your kindergartener, your two year old runs into the room with her, and you are in such a hurry to get to work you completely forget about the toddler until you are out of the school building and in your car and you see that hey, the car seat is empty and OMG I forgot my kid! This is purely theoretical.
One of your children hangs his sibling from a basketball goal.
Your child has eaten any of the following: dirt, super glue, marbles, paper, dog food, shoes, or that mysterious green goo in the baby food jar labeled Spinach. Bonus points if your child has done all of these.
You’ve played hide and go seek with a child and repeatedly forgotten to seek.
If you’ve called Poison Control at least once.
Teachers and principals at school know your name well, and it’s not for a good reason.
Nothing grosses you out anymore.
You wake up to someone screaming “Mr. Flibble, No!!!!!” and don’t think this is odd.
When you need to sign something, the only thing you can find to write with is a broken green crayon.
You freely talk about the bowel habits of your child at the dinner table.
You get to work and two hours later discover your shirt has baby boogers on it.
You make your dinner off the leftovers on two small plates.
You have experienced projectile vomiting, projectile pooping, and projectiles aimed at your head.
You allow your kid to pull every book from the book shelf because hey, he’s occupied.
You could swear your child didn’t have that many stuffed animals the night before.
Any one of the following is on your floor right now: naked Barbies, glitter glue, homework due last week, a My Little Pony with its mane cut off, a diaper in any state, a baby sock (and your child is ten), a sippy cup with week old apple juice making it smell like you give your toddler Bud Light, a Barney VHS tape, a library book with your child’s autograph in crayon, a pile of laundry that’s been there a month, Legos, one of your diamond stud earrings, a hamster, the contents of your purse, a half eaten Uncrustable, cherries from that Hi Ho Cherry-O game, your car keys, dried out markers, dirt, super glue with a bite mark in the middle of it, a trail of dog food, a shoe, or any UFOs (Unidentified Funky Objects).
And finally . . .
You might be a parent if a child’s face lights up when you enter the room, and you think maybe Santa is behind you, but no, it’s just you.