W/E 29th October 2016 Post 083
LEGOLAND WITH MUSHY PEAS
Hi Ewan here. We had a break from grandad and mamma this week. You need one to recharge the batteries. They do take it out of me, looking after them week after week.
As a well deserved break for me and my brother Rory, mum and dad decided to take us to Legoland. No, not the one in Denmark, remember my mum and dad are cheapskate. It is based at Windsor in this country. But I thought it does have its advantages and all that. We would probably go and visit the Queen at Windsor Castle.
Remember, as featured in the nursery rhyme:
“Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?
I've been up to London to visit the Queen.
Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there?
I frightened a little mouse under her chair.”
Ok, I know it says London and not Windsor, but she’s probably at Windsor as much as at London. The earliest record of the rhyme was 1805, I don’t know, but grandad was probably a new kid on the block in those days.
I am a big fan of The Queen. Grandad introduced me to her music. He plays it all the time. I like “Bohemian Rhapsody”, but I have to say her very best track is “I Want To Break Free.” It just says it all for me, especially when they strap me in the high chair, in my pushchair or put me in the cot. I’m at that age where I just want to break free and do my own thing.
But mum and dad took us all that way but took us no where near the real Windsor Castle, just to a model of it.
Another way mum and dad wind me up is the way they build things up to be more exciting than they are.
“Isn’t it exciting? Only five more sleeps and we will be going to Legoland?”
Big deal. That usually means only five more sleeps to the biggest disappointment in your life so far.
I remember last Christmas they said the same thing. Come Christmas Day I expected, non stop bottle guzzling, poohing and sleeping all day. No such luck. I was given a load of boxes, they weren’t even empty and I was expected to be excited. Parents! Who can understand them?
With this Legoland trip they’d done the big excited countdown thing, but they managed to get that wrong. We woke up and they said “No more sleeps until Legoland.”. But that’s where they were wrong. They put us in the car to set off and me and my brother both had one more sleep before we got to Legoland.
You just cannot get trustworthy parents any more.
Once we arrived, one part of Legoland was brilliant. All the rides. Most of them were so exciting and some scary I loved them. But then we went to see the actual Lego.
There was so much of it, all outside in someone’s garden. The garden was massive . Lots bigger than mamma’s and granddad’s. I think it was even bigger than ours and ours is huge. All the Lego was outside. Mum doesn’t allow us to take ours outside. There was so much of it all made into buildings as far as you could see.
I was so excited. “Let me at it,” I yelled. I wish the words were forming properly when I speak. My parents and other people would understand me better. My mum and dad know exactly what I mean but choose not to.
The whole point of Lego is that people, anyone, my brother, Rory, mum, dad, grandad, mamma, granny, auntie, or uncle builds Lego up for me to knock down. That is the point of Lego. What other purpose could there possibly be. There were millions (I think, I’m still trying to get my head around numbers) of buildings here at Legoland. It would take me all day to pull them apart. But what fun. That would be heaven for me.
But, wait for this, mum and dad stopped me breaking the models up. Can you believe that. If you are my age you will know that parents are that stupid. That’s right they would not let me get at the Lego, How crazy is that? What a massive waste of money to get in. The entry fee cost my dad millions of pounds. I know it was millions because he kept going on about the expensive cost. And they throw it away by not letting me break up the Lego buildings.
I wish grandad had been there, he would let me. He never stops me doing anything. He once told me about a young Chinese boy,who single-handedly pushed over a giant fox figurine of Nick from Zootopia at the LEGO Expo in Ningbo, China.It so happened that it was the first day of the exhibition and the display had been open to the public for no more than an hour when the incident occurred. According to Zhao, the artist who spent three days and nights painstakingly piecing together the figurine, the parents were very apologetic over the mishap. The LEGO figurine is said to cost more than 100,000 yuan ($15,170). That is proof that you have to break the models up. It is a worldwide thing.
I ate some mushy peas for the first time at Legoland. As I have only had some at Legoland I imagine they are only sold there. I have worked out why, all by myself too, without anyone telling me. I’ve learnt how to do that by observing my grandad and dad. They know about everything, they never ask anyone. They just know about things. They are amazing. Ask them a question and they know the answer.
The reason I have only had mushy peas at Legoland is because ‘mushy peas’ stands for mushy pieces as in Lego pieces. The mush, which is a horrible pea colour is all old Lego pieces mixed together and crushed to a mush. All the different colours mixed give the stressed, green pea colour. I try eating, biting and chewing Lego pieces all the time. It don’t half wind adults up. But the pieces are so hard you can’t eat them. But to mush them up, what a brilliant idea to use up old Lego pieces.
So why do they call it Mushy Pea’s instead of Mushy Pieces. Grown ups are stupid and use initials like that all the time. My dad goes to B&Q, my mum to H&M and M&S, we watch BBC and ITV on the TV. Dad puts BP in the car to make it go. Grandad puts HP sauce on his bacon and DHL deliver mamma’s dresses.
Grownups are so childish why don’t they act responsibly and refer to things with the full name.
And why waste money by going to Legoland and then stop me breaking up the Lego. That was two days of my life I will never get back.
When I was a lad at school around 13 years old, our Maths teacher used to call me Wol. At the end of the year as we were moving up a class I plucked up courage to ask why he called me Wol. He told meit was thename of the deslexic owl in Winnie the Pooh. With my Harry Potter glasses he said I looked like the Wise Old Owl in the Winnie the Pooh stories.
Being the vain person I am I took it as a compliment
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