Yesterday, we started preparing for Halloween -- and Henry's wish to be Obi-Wan Kenobi (you're our only hope!) -- by trekking to K-mart to buy a pair of lightsabers. He spent much of the rest of the day playing with them (and alternately bugging us to do battle with him). I was slightly concerned that he might want to sleep with them, which I imagined wouldn't be comfortable for anyone, particularly when the spring-loaded saber shot out of the handle and glowed in the dark at 2 a.m.
But he opted for a more sensible solution. He found a special secret place to prop them up and store them for morning.
Fast forward to the a.m. I was getting ready for work and heard him jump out of bed and patter down the hall to our room. I turned to say good morning and was greeted with a knee-slapping sight. If I'd been drinking my coffee, I'd have spewed it across the room.
Henry swaggered into the bedroom wearing an orange, long-sleeved t-shirt, bed-head hair sticking askew, and one of the lightsabers clipped to the band of his kids cartoon brief-style underwear.
He said something about how he was Anakin and the force was with him, and would I please be Ahsoka and play Star Wars with him. But I honestly was laughing too hard to hear exactly what he said.
It was quite a look. I'm sure the look will be repeated. Until it's not at all funny anymore.