As these things go, naming Bilderhoos was pretty typical. We stormed our brains and blurted out anything that blew into them. After savagely rejecting most of each others ideas, the short-list was posted on the fridge, where they could be rolled around on the tongue for a while, and tested out on any visitors who wandered into our kitchen.
It wasn't until David retold the story about the Scandinavian origins of the set he built twenty years before -- his boys played on a similar one during a sabbatical year in Copenhagen (where it is to this day, in a public park) -- that the only possible name was one that sounded vaguely Danish: bilderhoos.
It's a fun word to say out loud. And in the spirit of play, it's truly nonsensical, on the whole. If you point out that the literal translation of bilder doesn't mean 'builder' I would invite you go fix yourself a bowl of Häagen Dazs ice cream and sit in the corner until you are ready to come out and play again. ;P
And there's the added value of being able to call our future employees 'hoos elves'. OK, no we won't.