The little one is thrilled — he got a lightsaber yesterday. He and his nephew swung it around for hours last night, battling heroically in the darkness of his room. Given the quality of the product, I honestly didn’t expect it to survive until morning. I was wrong. Not only did it survive, but it also somehow made its way into my hands.
Turns out, men don’t really grow up — they just get taller and pretend the toys are “for the kids.” Give us a lightsaber and we’re eight years old again, fully committed, no questions asked.
