Help me Obi-Wan, you’re my only hope. Or why toy developers really should employ children

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I have spent the past 2 days building Lego with my 7 year old.
Bonding with the boy.
Not just any Lego, dear internet. Oh no, Star Wars Lego to be precise.

He. Has. Been. In. Heaven.

He’s at the age where he only needs mummy to do the boring bits like open the packaging and supply a steady stream of food and pass the correct pieces “look at it mum, that is not the right one is it”. Duly admonished.

So we’re building Luke’s Landspeeder (we’re reviewing them for the Great Toy Guide and have already spent the best part of 3 hours building the TIE Defender – that’s an awful lot of little grey bricks dear readers) and we’re nearing the part where we need to sit the little characters in the vehicle to, you know, go and defend the universe or something.
Anyway, Dan’s cross.

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“What’s the point of giving them lightsabers? They can’t hold them while they’re sitting in the speeder. They haven’t even created somewhere to store them when they’re travelling somewhere.”
Tut.
“They really don’t think these things through do they mummy?”

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