Phil’s a big fat hairy liar.
The boys are playing Legos, which is great and all, but I’d rather they be outside in the fresh air, bright sun, and blooming daffodils. I’d rather they come in hours later sweaty and hungry for lunch, only to eat quickly and run right back outside. Then I want to have to call them in for dinner because they’ve been playing so hard outside that they’ve completely lost track of time. Then I want them to talk eagerly about all the things they’re going to do tomorrow outside because it’s spring break and they can’t get enough of that warm sun.
However, there is no warm sun. There’s only a frozen tundra for a front yard and a swampy, icy mess for a back yard. Hence, the Legos.