Dinner conversations, car rides, appointments with home teachers all revolve around one topic: Star Wars.
Despite the excitement of Star Wars, I was concerned that perhaps my two-year-old padawan had been introduced to the ways of the force prematurely. When Colton began reenacting deadly Sith Lord shocks on innocent strangers at the grocery store, I knew that his somewhat violent-free-innocence had been robbed by those 12+ hours of Jedi watching joy.
I felt kind of guilty about his young exposure to light sabers and hand suffocation routines.
I felt guilty until Colton repeated two magical words, "Yes Master."
"Colton, please make your bed."
"Yes Master."
"Colton, please get dressed."
"Yes Master."
"Colton, please stop picking your nose."
"Yes Master."
With a response like that, I wish I had introduced Colton to Star Wars years ago. The additional parental force in my home more than compensates for the Darth Vadar capes and multiple light sabers hanging from his pants. And in the end, Colton can radiate pseudo-shock waves in my direction until his face shrivels up. Go for it, kid. I am the master of this all-boy-house and I have waited six years for someone to acknowledge my powers.
Welcome to the dark side.
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