Star Wars Spinoffs

Tired of just re-hashing scenes from the Star Wars movies, my son and I developed some spin-offs to play. One games is: No Padawan, about the dumbest apprentice in the Jedi Order. I play the bumbling apprentice, always moving objects inappropriately with the Force, not properly securing my light-sabre (and cutting off my toes), and talking too much. My son plays the wise, but frustrated master who has to admonish me for my failing. When I really mess up (like the time I told the Boba Fett where the Jedi attack team was hiding) he chases me around, sounding like the Skipper yelling, "Padawan" and trying to bonk me on the head with the foam sword we use as a light sabre. If there were national tournaments for Alan Hale impressions my son would definitely win the kindergarten division (and probably the entire elementary school league.)

My son likes this game because of the role reversal. It prepares me for his teenage years when I will, invariably, do everything wrong. When he whines at me, "Daaaad!" I hope he'll use the Alan Hale voice.

The other Star Wars based game we play is Jedi Chef. This is about a Jedi who uses his light sabre to cook things. He can slice and cook a turkey at the same time. Give him a loaf of bread and it will arrive sliced and toasted. (He's working on an attachment to dispense butter.) Also, instant French Fries. You'd think they would make vegetables dry and unpalatable, but at the right setting - veggie crisps!

It's a pretty cool show. We use the Force to throw food in the air, slice it with our light sabres and land it on the plates - which are then telekinetically sent to diners. Unfortunately, we never get past appetizers - the show is always interrupted by a battle droid attack.

Sweet Meats

When my daughter was a baby we played a game. I would smell her head. Baby's heads smell like caramel - I don't know why, they just do, but it is wonderful. I mention this often, to the point where my son would tell complete strangers, "My sister tastes like caramel."

So I would hold my daughter in my lap and say, "I'm gonna eat your baby brains! Yum, yum, yum!" and gently gum her head.*

My son walked in during a session. His jaw dropped, his eyes were wide, and he yelled, "Daddy! Don't eat my sister! Save some for me!"

* Tales of parents eating children ancient and are clearly an expression of an archetypal behavior. Perhaps the most famous example (if you are a dork) is how Zeus and the other Greek gods were devoured by their father Chronos. There are many theories about the origins and meaning of this behavior. But if, as I theorize, most baby heads smell like caramel, it would explain a great deal.

Mother's Day Save

Father Goof frequently grouses about the price of his son's private school, but today it paid off. Someone had kindof forgotten to do something nice for Mother's Day for the long-suffering Mama Goof. (Father Goof has never claimed to be a good father, husband, or son - merely an adequate one.)

Thankfully my son, directed by his teachers, had created an array of mother-themed artwork, including the inevitable pasta-oriented jewelry and a heart-shaped card with embracing stick figures. Meant to show familial love, in fact the drawing looked like an angry zebra, drawn by someone who had a profound hatred of zebras. There was another set for Bubbe. Wearing the macaroni elbow necklaces gave the women in my life a weird Polynesian-Italian fusion vibe.

Obviously Father Goof was supposed to buy them some non-chewable jewelry, and he will pay a price for his failure to do so. But at least the mothers received some acknowledgement today, and their wrath will be muted. Now at least private school is starting to pay for itself. All the money I saved on jewelry can go towards tuition.

Geometry of Parenthood

Proposition 20 of Euclid's Book I reads:

In any triangle two sides taken together in any manner are greater than the remaining one.

My old textbook (which my wife has been hounding me to throw out) a footnote remarks that Proclus (another ancient geometer) reported that it was the habit of the Epicureans to ridicule this theorem because:

"Even an ass knows that. If fodder is placed at one angular point and the ass at another, the ass won't walk the two sides of the triangle but just the one side. Booyah."

Proclus would respond,

"Oh no you didn't! Mere perception of the truth is different from a scientific proof of it and a knowledge of the reason why it is true."

It was even more devastating in Greek.

I mention this because the assertion that even the ass knows to walk a straightline shows five year olds in an interesting light. Everyday I pick-up my son and carpool buddy and struggle with their inability to walk in a straight line. For example, when I drop carpool buddy off, rather than making a beeline from my car to his front door he takes an elliptical approach that occasionally takes him into neighbors' yards. So, are five year-olds dumber than asses? "What," Proclus would no doubt ask, "Does this say about the human capacity to reason, about logos?"

Or, are five-year olds brilliant? Just as Einstein shattered Newtonian physics showing that space curves, Euclidean geometry also withered before the assault of modernity. Lobchevsky (yes, the one from the Tom Lehrer song) argued that a line lying perpendicular across two parallel lines does not intersect them at exactly 90 degrees because space curves. So perhaps, when my charges are wandering in what to my, aged eyes are parabolic routes they are in fact simply perceiving the curves in space and navigating them.

Or they could just be a pair of dumbasses.

Trouble Ahead

My kids were watching Cyberchase the other day and my daughter announced, "I like Hacker!"

Hacker is the show's villain, he is also green. When she was looking at her brother's Spiderman picture book, she pointed to the Green Goblin and asked, "Who's this?"

"Green Goblin," I told her.

"Is he nice?"

"Not really. He has issues."

"I like him," she announced. I thought nothing of it, she likes green.

But then, she announced her favorite Dora character is Swiper, and on Lazytown she likes Robby Rotten (I admit I was sort of pleased about that - I can't stand Sportacus.)

I noticed a certain trend was forming. When her brother discusses Star Wars (which is constantly) she chimes in, "I like Darth Vader! I like the bad guys!"

I guess I am better off learning this now, rather than when she turns 15.

Swim Lessons

My son’s swim class the other day ended with the instructor asking each student to show her their favorite thing to do in the water. Most kids blew bubbles, floated, or put their heads under. My son just stood their, grinning.

“Aren’t you going to show me your favorite swim move?” the instructor queried.

“I’m doing it!"

"Doing what?" the instructor asked.

"When we go to the beach, my daddy says going pee-pee in the ocean is the best thing.”

Usually the indoor pool where my son takes lessons reverberates with the sonic booms of children shrieking and splashing. But suddenly the entire place fell silent, and everyone stared at me.

“Ha ha. OK buddy, let’s go now,” I said.

“Right daddy, come in and we’ll swim to international waters – then no one can tell us what to do! You can go pee-pee too.”

More stares. Parents pull their children out of the pool. The instructor moves away.

“No, I think you are getting cold. Why don’t we just go… RIGHT NOW!” I added through clenched teeth.

“No, daddy, come in! The water is really warm!”