Thursday, August 10, 2006

Toby Jugs Kanobi

WARNING! This post contains mommy-gag-blog items and useless personal information I ain't too proud to share. Perfect for the blogosphere. I pronouced my daughter old enough for her first screening of Star Wars. So we gathered round the DVD... I was soooo excited. Nervous, but spirits were high, as were expectations. Would she hate it? Love it? Run screaming from the room? Pronounce it really stupid, dorky and without benefit of dreamboat, Zac Efron?

No, she loved it, whew, and found it thrilling and exciting. It made her eyes shine. She pronounced Darth Vadar "kinda like Voldemort." No great imagination stretch there. She hasn't turned her wand into a light saber yet as there is generational gap involved, although one that seems easily transcendable. She asked no questions about The Force though, such as what is it and how do you use it. That was a relief for such a Muggle mom as me. All that metaphysical yap is still beyond a six-year old's realm. But not for long.

Ava told me she once had a dream that she was kissing Zac Efron/Troy, but that it was all went "horrible" because she woke up and found out it didn't really happen. Poor kid. How do you soothe that kinda deep disappointment? I'll go way out on a limb here and say she's may have a hard time yet again in the dream vs. reality department. I hear some people do. "Just keep those expectations low dear," is what I felt like telling her.

I also refrained from uttering bullshit about princes and dreams really coming true and all the usual crap she'll get enough of from bad literature and TV. Then again, whenever she asks me if I always wanted a baby girl, I tell her, "Yes, and my dream came true. God was kind to me, for some odd reason." And I mean it too. (Pardon utterly gratuitous mommy-gag-blog moment, but we all have our, uh, sarcasm limitations; mine typically involve my kid.)

And now for something completely silly, Mixed Shushi Platter.

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