Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to believe that assembling 274 tiny, colorful plastic rectangles into a sad imitation of a flower is a worthwhile use of their opposable thumbs. This "Mini Orchid" from a brand called LEGO is, ostensibly, for "decoration," a task I already perform with far more grace and panache. While the final, static sculpture holds little promise beyond being a target for a well-aimed swat from a high shelf, the initial unboxing presents a glorious opportunity. The individual pieces are perfectly sized for batting into oblivion, and the crinkly plastic bags they come in are a symphony for the ears. The true tragedy is the hours my human will spend hunched over this project, time that could be better spent stroking my exquisitely soft gray fur.
Key Features
- FLORAL DISPLAY – Let creativity blossom with the LEGO Botanicals Mini Orchid building kit for adults, which lets budding florists create and display a LEGO flower
- AUTHENTIC DETAILS – The nature-inspired building set includes 5 peach blooms, a few buds and green leaves for a lifelike look, as well as a light terracotta flowerpot with a wood-effect plinth
- BRING IN SPRINGTIME - Need something to brighten up your room afte a long winter? Our artificial orchid centerpiece will add some color to any room you add it to.
- INDOOR PLANT DECOR – Once complete, the LEGO flower set becomes a piece of nature themed home or office decor
- PLANT GIFT – The building set makes a great gift for women, men and nature lovers. It can also be given as a housewarming, anniversary, birthday, and Mother's Day or Father's Day gift
- LEGO BUILDER APP – This set includes printed and digital versions of the building instructions for an immersive experience
- DIMENSIONS – The LEGO orchid has 274 pieces and stands over 10 in. (25 cm) tall
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The ritual began, as it often does, with the crinkle of a box and the Human's low hum of concentration. From my vantage point on the arm of the leather chair, I watched as a constellation of tiny, colored plastic bits was spilled across the coffee table. This was not play. This was an obsession. The Human consulted a thin, glossy booklet—a sacred text, apparently—and began clicking the pieces together. I feigned a nap, one eye cracked open, observing the slow, clumsy birth of a "light terracotta flowerpot." Pathetic. My interest, however, was not in the whole, but in the parts. Specifically, one part. As the awkward stem grew, I saw the Human lay out five special pieces, the ones the booklet called "peach blooms." They were the prize, the centerpiece of this entire foolish endeavor. My plan formed, elegant in its simplicity. I would not merely disrupt this process; I would perform a heist. I would liberate the most vital component, not with chaotic force, but with surgical precision. I waited. The Human paused to take a sip of their water, their back turned for a mere three seconds. It was all the time a professional requires. A silent leap, a soft landing on the rug, and a swift, deliberate extension of a single paw. I did not scatter the pieces. I did not make a sound. I hooked the most centrally-located peach bloom and retracted my paw, the piece clutched delicately. I then retreated to the hallway, depositing my treasure into the toe of the Human's running shoe—a place it would not be discovered for days. I returned to my chair and began grooming my white tuxedo front, the very picture of innocence. Minutes later, a sound of frustration. A sigh. The rustling of plastic bags being searched. The Human was confused, certain the piece had been there a moment ago. The half-finished orchid sat on the table, incomplete, a monument to their distraction. Its potential was never in being a flower; its worth was as a catalyst for chaos, a test of my superior intellect and stealth. In that, this collection of plastic is an unqualified success. It is an instrument of the highest quality.