George Lucas has given many dads the world over a platform to have something in common with their sons.
It’s incredible how the men and I can talk for hours, driving their mother to frustration, about sabers, starships and Sith Lords.
I arrived for the weekend the other Friday night and saw the men glued to their little telly in their lounge room. “Oh Dad, quick, come in here, Clone Wars is on”.
I stuck my head around the corner to the other room: “Hi Mummy!” I wave at Dawn and then return to the boys lying on the bean bag.
Chick comes over and sits on my back as Beau leans in and cuddles my head – all the while not moving their eyes off the screen. Silent little Clone War zombies.
“You know Han Solo is also Indiana Jones Beau..?” His eyes nearly pop out of his head.
“His name is Harrison Ford. He looks like Poppy dontcha think?”
I was then interrogated about the names of the other actors.
Yesterday when I collected the men from school, Beau reveals that Mark Hamill isn’t his favourite, but Harrison Ford is.
I laugh and agree with him, brushing the blond hair out of his eyes with my fingers.
It’s fantastic to have such an easy link to the minds of my sons.
My father wouldn’t know who Darth Vader is if he came up to him with a glowing red saber.
Mum knows a bit more – we even skipped off to watch Episode 2 together a few years back, though don’t ask her why the clones have turned from good mates of the Jedis into some really nasty New Zealanders.
Now I’ve spotted Cowboys and Aliens, which could be the perfect mix of stars and saddles for my biggest little man. He will be chomping at the popcorn bucket to watch Mr Ford and I’ll be in the dark wiping melted chocolate and ice cream off my t-shirt.
Chick on the other hand, when he discovers there is no Millennium Falcon swooping around, will take to the screen at a full charge with a little green lightsaber.
