Ivanka Trump’s Lego Story at RNC is VERY Similar to One She Admits Her Family Constantly Makes Up About Themselves

First Daughter Ivanka Trump told a charming story about Legos during her speech at the Republican National Convention, one which sounded eerily similar to Lego stories that she has previously admitted that she and her brothers made up and told about themselves for years.

During her speech Thursday night, Ivanka Trump told the mostly maskless audience assembled on the South Lawn that when she moved to Washington DC, one of her kids built a Lego White House for President Donald Trump, which he still proudly displays for world leaders “just so they know he has the greatest grandchildren on Earth.”

WNYC’s Andrea Bernstein flagged the story, pointing out that as it turns out, Legos are a popular storytelling device among the Trump children.

In 2007, Ivanka told an empowering tale of brickery about herself to late night host Conan O’Brien. She explained how she’d been crushed by the gift of a Barbie doll, and rebelled by building a Trump Tower out of glued-together Legos, angering her brothers because she’d ruined their toy. The account, though brief, was incredibly detailed.

But in her 2009 book The Trump Card, Ms. Trump explained that she’d subconsciously made the whole thing up, and that her brothers had also spent years telling a version of the story in which they were the brick-wielding heroes.

She wrote about the story, and how she and her brothers feuded for credit over the Lego legend:

For years and years, the memory was close enough to touch. I grew up with it. I shared it with friends. I loved how it showed the way I’d leaned toward real estate at an early age, the way I’d defied convention by using those LEGO blocks in such an unconventional way, the way my father seemed to take pride in my precocious behavior even as he and my mother had to punish me for it, and on and on.

I happened to mention the story not too long ago to my brothers, and they looked at me as if I’d sprouted horns. They couldn’t believe I was daiming ownership of “the LEGO incident.” According to my brothers, they were the ones who had built the skyscraper and glued the pieces together. They were the ones who’d gotten punished. They were the ones who looked back on this moment as one of the first manifestations of my father’s influence. They’d told it to their friends over the years, too.

She went on to explain how Trump had settled the whole thing: by explaining that the real story was about him, and the blocks weren’t even legos, and also explained how their made-up story was actually better than the truth:

“Sorry, kids,” he said, “but you’re all wrong. That’s actually my story. That was me and your uncle Robert. Only it wasn’t LEGOs, I’m afraid. Just old-fashioned wooden building blocks. I don’t think we even had LEGOs when I was a kid. But we took these wooden blocks and built this wonderful building and glued all the pieces together so it wouldn’t fall down.”

He went on to explain that he’d even written about the incident in his first book, The Art of the Deal, which must have been where I’d gotten the story in the first place. My brothers, too. We’d all read Dad’s books as soon as we were old enough, and we must each have found a point of connection in this one tossed-off story, to where we somehow filed it away and made it our own. Subconsciously. Instinctively. So it’s not the story itself that rates a mention; it’s not the gluing together of blocks to preserve and protect one of the first-ever Trump towers. It’s not even the tug and pull over our family legacies that I find so interesting. It’s the way my brothers and I seemed to grab at this memory as emblematic. The way we each came to own it, throughout our childhoods and well into our own first steps as young professionals, working at our father’s side building actual skyscrapers. The way it reinforces how the fuzzy, uncertain eye of memory can sometimes take us to a deeper, more fundamental understanding of how things really were than the plain, unvarnished truth might tell us in the first place.

Inspiring.

Watch the clip above via CNN.