If I were to telephone the eldest of the Little Welsh Boys right now (not that I would because it’s way past his bedtime) I know just what his first words to me would be. “Two more sleeps!”
Two more sleeps, that is, until our mini-break in Windsor – famous for its castle, its heritage and (far, far more important as far as my Little Welsh Boys are concerned)
I wonder how I have managed almost sixteen years as a grandparent without ever setting foot in the English Home of Little Plastic Bricks? Why have I
never been invited to tag along before? Is there something they’re not telling me?
I check out the website and it all looks incredibly exciting. There’s
Adventure Land, Knight’s Kingdom, Pirate’s Landing, the Kingdom of the Pharaohs and the Land of the Vikings. I’m pleased to see that Legoland appears to have covered every period in history so comprehensively. So far, so educational.
What is more, they have used 40 million Little Plastic Bricks to create Mini Land which, as far as I can tell, is a Model Village but of the World.
I wonder how they know they have used 40 million bricks? Do you think it might just be an estimate? Did anyone actually say: “Hey, there, we’ve only used 39,999,431 bricks so far – shall we rustle up some farm outbuildings to make it up to
40 million? Think how impressive that will look on the website!”
I’m a little worried that My Boy and His Boys will expect me to “set sail for
a soaking on the explosively-enhanced Pirate Falls Dynamite Drench.” I have a horrible feeling I know what “explosively-enhanced” means and as you know I am a Wimp of the First Order, fit only for the most sedate of rides. Perhaps the
“fun, fishy mission” in Adventure Land will be more my cup of tea (or coffee.)
I always think that anticipation is half the fun – whether of
a holiday, an outing or a trip to Legoland. I always worry when people tell me they are organising a “surprise party” for their best beloved – will she turn up at the venue and wish, more than anything else, that she could go home and
get changed into something she would have chosen to wear, had she known that the whole family would be there, all glammed-up, to shout “Surprise! Surprise!” as she came through the door in her jeans and tee-shirt?
Likewise holidays. What a waste of all the time leading up to the holiday, if you haven’t had a chance to buy a guide book, check out the hotel on TripAdvisor, study a map of the area and
ask all your friends who’ve been on holiday to the same place what you should look out for while you’re there. I like to have at least three months to look forward to a holiday.
My Boy says he can’t ever let his lads into the secret of wherever they are going too early. My Little Welsh Boys, apparently, take the Art of Anticipation to fresh heights. It is clearly hereditary. For some
time I had to be really careful what I said on the telephone or via Skype so as not to let the proverbial cat out of its bag. They’ve only just heard that we are on our way to Legoland and the excitement is almost too much. “Oh boy, oh boy,
oh boy!” they cry.
Me? I’m really looking forward to all that Legoland has in store for me, however explosively-enhanced that might be. Though to be
honest, I'd be happy wherever we went. It will be enough for me to have the company of my three Little Welsh Boys who never cease to entertain, to amuse and to delight me.
Two more sleeps!