My child would like a word with you:
Now, you'll be getting that letter personally in a few days, but I figured a heads' up might be helpful to let you know 1) that it was not sent by a serial killer and 2) what on God's green 16 x 32 baseplate it actually says.
PITHOR. AND DLIVR
it For ME. THANC
Yes. So. You heard the boy. Get on that. His allowance is waiting. I think he can currently offer you three dollars for your trouble.
I think I've mentioned that Noah's current all-consuming singular obsession du jour is Ninjago. Which, for the unitiated, is a line of Lego toys and a cartoon featuring...well,Lego toys. It's a carefully market-researched and deliberate mash-up of EVERY SINGLE THING little boys have been known to love over the past three decades.
It's a Beyblade-Magic-the-Gathering-Samurai-Ninja-Star-Wars-Indiana-Jones-Meets-The-Voldemort-Mummy-Chosen-One Mystical Magical Land Powered By Martial Arts And Also Jetpacks. And since the entire universe exists for the express purpose of selling toys, it is completely unencumbered by things like logic, setting or making much sense at all.
The ninjas live on a vaguely Asian-esque flying Viking ship (suggested retail price: $79.99). While the show appears to be set in fuedal Japan, everybody flies around in Storm Fighters (retail price: $24.99) and Rattlecopters ($29.99) and the red ninja drives a motorcycle ($14.99). (I'm sorry: BLADECYCLE.)The bad guys are skeletons and snake armies and there's an Evil Dad who will one day face his Chosen One Son. Oh, and the white ninja is actually a robot. (Spoiler alert! Sorry!) (White ninja minifigure suggested retail price is $9.99, but GOOD FREAKING LUCK YOU GUYS.)
Does it sound stupid? Because it's kind of stupid.
So of course my children LOVE it. LOOOOOOOVE it.
They're clearly not the only ones — the Ninjago shelves are seriously empty at every store, the popular sets are sold out online or have the prices jacked up to nearly double what they should be — and yes, they are anxiously awaiting the next wave of Ninjago sets, due out this summer. Hence Noah's idea to write Lego a letter and put in his formal request that Lego create a Pythor minifigure and deliver it to our house.
Ezra drew a picture of his request. It's either some kind of ground assault vehicle or the Great Devourer from the cartoon's season finale. Or possibly a fried egg on toast.
I have no fucking idea who Pythor is. I don't understand any of this. It all makes me painfully aware that I am a girl. A girl who gave birth to boys.
I promised we'd mail their letters today. I found the stamps and an address on Lego's website. I know it's ridiculous and stupid and pointless, but they don't. Not yet.
And I don't want them to figure that out for a very, very long time.