My husband agreed to take our little one to her swim class today on one condition: that I stay home and make our Big Girl watch Star Wars from start to finish.
We have been a little embarrassed to admit this certain failure in our parenting. Now we’re not ashamed of the amount of sugar she eats or the fact that she watches way too much Phineas and Ferb on the weekends.
All of that pales next to the fact that my 7 year old kid is just now getting around to watching Star Wars: Episode Four, A New Hope in its entirety. She’s seen bits and pieces, read some comic books, played with the toys, gone to Star Wars-themed birthday parties, but never sat down on the damn sofa and watched the whole entire movie from start to finish. She has never heard millions of voices cry out in terror and get suddenly silenced. She has never learned about going to the Tachi station to pick up some power converters. She has never seen the origins of the droids that she isn’t looking for.
So here we are, spending a Friday afternoon together. Me allegedly getting caught up work. And she, the kid, watching Star Wars. Finally.
I first saw it age four at a drive-in theater in Borger, Texas. I will save time and space and not be the one-billionth person on this planet to go on and on about how Star Wars rocked my world and shaped my childhood and changed my life forever. If you are between the ages of 30 and 50 you know exactly what I mean and we can just give each other the Yoda nod and have a little Jedi mind-trick exchange on that first Star Wars experience without me having to get into a fit of love-letter-to-Han-Luke-Leah-fan-fiction fantasy ranting. It goes without saying.
And I’m eager to report how my kid reacts. If at all. Too jaded from so many awesome bits of technology constantly assaulting her senses? Too saturated with Star Wars culture to be open to the raw new-ness of the core essential force (ahem) that is the kernel of the true George Lucas empire?
I plan to report back on that one tomorrow.