It took a while, but Little E finally watched Star Wars all the way through over the weekend, over a meal of a homemade cheeseburger and some fries. He’s about the same age I was when I first saw it: four-going-on-five.
He now “gets” what’s up with his two lightsaber flashlights and wants to play Star Wars with me all the time. For unspecified reasons that will become clear to him later, I’ve always got the one with the red lights. (Spoilers, sweetie.)
One thing does seem to have struck a chord with him, though (literally): he loved the music. At naptime on Sunday, he curled up next to his mother and asked her to hum Star Wars music to him. She found this a daunting request. Now, I could go into how silly it is for a former music major and a lifelong Star Wars fan to not know the best-selling soundtrack of all time backward and forward (who’s the music major here?), but I’ll spare her the embarrassment. (Oh… wait. There was probably a more graceful way to mention that.)
He asked me on Monday night, “Dad, do you have any Star Wars music?”
Who, moi? A guy who can’t read sheet music to save his life but still geeks out over what the woodwind section is doing at any given moment in any given soundtrack?
Why… yes. Yes I do. My dear boy, I thought you’d never ask.
I have a feeling my room is going to suddenly be a lot more interesting to him.