This whole weekend has had a very dramatic feeling to it, perhaps caused by the fact that EVERY WAKING MINUTE of it has been set to the pounding strains of the Star Wars theme music. This is thanks to the release of the trilogy DVD, an event which has thrilled my geek husband to his very soul. He went to Walmart on Friday, supposedly to purchase something like batteries, and came back with the box set. He tried to pass it off like the DVD purchase was an afterthought, something he just picked up, like you do with milk, but I know better. However, he should get credit for the creative explanation he gave for the purchase: "One day, when we have kids, this is one of those movies we can watch with them! It's really clean and it's a great story. They'll love it!" So, really, he didn't buy it for himself, he bought it as a gift for our non-existent children. Uh-huh.
I used to be much cooler than I am now, and I do like Star Wars, really, I do. I saw it for the first time when I was 15 and then I became such a fanatic that at one point in my life, I actually owned a life-sized cardboard Yoda. I think it's still somewhere at my parents' home. I don't think I could ever bring myself to actually throw it away, since my brothers gave it to me, but at a certain age, a three-foot Yoda cutout just no longer goes with the decor. I think for me, that age is 24. For my husband, that age appears to be somewhere between You Can Take My Star Wars Movies When You Pry Them From My Cold Dead Fingers and Never Ever Ever.
At least he'll be a cool dad. If I let him live through Return of the Jedi. Because the MUSIC IS JUST MAKING ME CRAZY!