We made the “Easy to Make” Dover Book castle today, designed by A. G. Smith.
See, that face below? H.o.p’s not waving “Hi” to you. He’s waving, “Hey, sucka!!!” to me.
Why, “Hey, sucka!” C’mon, take a guess. Any cut-out-and-build castle that bills itself as too easy is going to leave a nine-year-old wailing in the dust. Or will leave H.o.p. wailing in the dust and thus me too. We know that from experience. H.o.p. knows this from experience. Since he knows this from experience he’s also aware it will be a matter of minutes before he’s off doing something else and mom or dad is left to finish the deed, because what’s been started must be finished right then or it will never be attempted again. H.o.p. knows this and thus knows that our Dover endeavors will end up being mom or dad endeavors, and he just acts as a tyrannical superintendent, sitting to the side, munching sandwiches.
But I’m joking. Kind of. Not much. H.o.p. helped. No, he really did do his part. He folded and glued. He moaned over how the glue wasn’t holding the pieces together. I cut and folded and glued and taped. I always resort to tape. I try not to resort to it as Dover never mentions tape as a tool. Why Dover doesn’t list tape as a tool, I don’t know, because I always have to resort to tape, and I trust that enough people must resort to tape that they could add to their instructions, “By the way, have tape handy, because glue only works if you’re pathologically obsessive about model building.”
We’ve discussed castles and castles and castles enough this year. Yes, indeedy, I even used the Monty Python King Arthur and Peasant scene as an intro for discussing what H.o.p. could have perhaps expected in the time of Knights in Shining Armor. But just that part because most of the rest of the movie would freak him out. He likes Monty Python a lot, but in choice doses.
For whatever reason, children’s history books are castle crazy for kids, intent on convincing them of the romance and rightness of it all, and how it was a grand old time to live in. And children’s shows. And fairy tales. All of that. It’s a huge conspiracy. Everyone H.o.p. knows was castle crazy long before he was, and in their presence I stifled groans and grinned and was glad H.o.p. wasn’t yet into it, knowing also it was only a matter of time.
H.o.p. has absorbed some of the reality of What was Then as versus what he’s sold, but a castle is a castle is fascinating. Of course it is, with all those fire-breathing dragons running around.
And because we’ve discussed castles enough this year, we didn’t discuss them today. Today was a day just for making the Dover castle.
So H.o.p. folded and glued and kept throwing up his hands and yelling how it wasn’t working! It wasn’t working! And occasionally running from the room because of the frustration of pieces springing apart and glue covering everything in a three foot radius was too much.
At first, when I pulled out the tape, he balked hard. He wanted to do this by the book and Dover, as noted, never gives tape as an option. After several more rounds of yelling about how the glue wasn’t working, when I began applying tape, he said nothing.
This is the result of our efforts. Complete with a fire-breathing dragon H.o.p. made out of Legos sitting atop the entrance.
This is what it’s supposed to look like.
The stains all over the cover of the book are glue stains. Glue was everywhere. Usually, with Dover, truth be told, I dispense with the glue altogether and use only tape. But for H.o.p.’s sake, because he was folding and gluing, I made a valiant effort with the Elmer’s. So did he. Which was why I was eventually banging my head on the wall and H.o.p. running in circles yelling, “It’s not working!”
Folks, it’s not worth it. Do the tape. I’m not putting down the purists, mind you. Paper models are a much beloved hobby, and for some are even an occupation. But unless you’re a person who builds paper models of Disney castles with a reasonable hope of Boingboing linking and crowing over your achievements, please, put down that Elmer’s and reach for the tape. Because I won’t feel so very untalented and glue-challenged.
The Dover book informs, “Cut out the knights and archers, fold back their bases and attach them to the tops of the walls and towers and to the castle grounds. You may want to make other bases for them and move them around. You can also use them with other toy knights and soldiers that you might have.”
Dover expects you to have enough of a brain to put this thing together, but not enough of one to spontaneously realize you can mix-and-match your Dover castle with other play toys.
What if the Dover instructions instead read, “You may NOT use your Dover castle with other toy knights and soldiers!”
What then?
Now that it’s finished, H.o.p. says he loves it and is eager to build the second Dover castle we have. Which is more elaborate. Which is why he made a wise choice not to do it today, and why I’m making a wise choice not to take it on tomorrow.
Doesn’t he look happy though?
He is.
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