I was sitting in the chair in the living room this morning reading a book and drinking coffee while trying to get up the energy to begin cleaning bathrooms. Let's just say that was a good pot of coffee. And a good book.
While I was procrastinating Drew was bouncing around the living room pretending to be a Jedi. He was fighting droids. I have learned over the last couple of years that Drew has quite an imagination. He can play by himself for hours and never runs out of story lines. That kid has single-handedly saved the universe from the Death Star at least 100 times in a 100 different ways. Luke Skywalker ain't got nothin' on my boy. No-sir-ree-bob.
During many of his adventures every member of the family gets an opportunity to play a role. The dog, the cats, Eric, me...whoever is handy...We get killed, rescued, run over, lost, burned up, shot down, have arms cut off, heads cut off and often resurrected from the dead to have the same atrocities committed again. Today I got to play a lead role...
"MOM! You are Queen Amadama and I am going to rescue you!"
"It's Amidala."
"OK. You're Queen Amadama and the droids are after you!"
"Drew...it's AmidaLa. Not daMa."
"I'm recuing Queen Amidama! Back off you droids."
"Drew...try again. It is A-M-I-D-A-L-A. AmidaLa."
"Mom. You're Princess Leia."
I guess the kid is cut out for showbiz after all. No matter what; the show must go on.
BTW - I did eventually get up and clean the bathrooms. I scrubbed toilets by hand. BY HAND, people. I blame my old friend Amber for that one. She always swore that toilets were never clean unless you scrubbed them by hand. I guess I bought it. Somewhere she is laughing. Damn her.
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