The Advent of the Legless Lego

Every year we count down to Christmas with Advent boxes full of chocolate. Every year I gaze at the paper calendars of my childhood with a glimmer in my eye, knowing that the boys will not appreciate them as I do. I look with wonder at the Playmobil and Lego calendars, not wanting to spend the money, or the crazy on locating one. I wonder what I could stuff the boxes with, knowing that only a sweet treat in the morning will placate my darling angel children.

This year the Lego calendars are everywhere, there’s even two different versions of them. Yet the skinflint in me, even at Christmas, still does not want to spend $29-$49 a pop on Advent calendars.

So I find myself in the week of Advent, desperately stuffing the boxes of years before, but not with the coveted chocolate treat. With Lego minifigs purchased on eBay. I disregarded my concerns as to their authenticity, or even the legitimacy of the seller (who was taken down three days after my purchase), and purchased a bag of fifty Lego minifigs for a whopping $15.

I win at Advent right? Best mom ever? Well, surely I still plan on getting that best mom award by the end of the 24 days, but as to winning at Advent, I’m not so sure. Fifty Lego minifigs sounds amazing. Fifty Lego minifigs is one epic game on Christmas Eve morning. Fifty Lego minifigs is a whole army to do battle with. Fifty Lego minifigs from a less than reputable eBay seller, however? Well let’s just say we aren’t talking about the minifigs you find at Toys’R’Us here. We’re talking fully dismembered minifigs. As in, I didn’t know the hands came off, and did you know the pelvis and legs are separate pieces?

So instead of happily stuffing twenty-four minifigs into twenty-four boxes–forty-eight really, as I have two sons to cater for–I am piecing together 240 pieces into twenty-four minifigs. That’s 480 individual teeny tiny Lego pieces. Tough ones too; I have a dimple on my hand that was not there before I began putting these bad boys together.

Do I win at Advent this year? Maybe. But at what cost, what cost I ask you?

All images: Sarah Pinault