May the Fourth be With You

As I threw the youngest Duloks into the shower and went about getting them off to school this morning, I noticed that there was only a handful of Cheerios left, the butter was left out all night, and the milk has gone sour. Not only that, but during the night, the Ewok cat had climbed the curtains again and the family goldfish is floating on its back.

“Oatmeal this morning, kids” I yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yuck!” was the unanimous response.

“Hurry up, or you’ll miss the Millennium Falcon Express and you’ll have to walk to school.”

The Force in my house is not only below warp speed in the morning, but if you didn’t know better, you would swear that the carpet is made out of fly paper. The Duloks are in slow motion looking for a toothbrush that was last used to brush Ewok’s tail. They are just standing there, stuck to the floor, swaying from side-to-side. Han Solo is doing his homework on the floor in the hallway and texting someone to start the clone wars. They are conspiring with the Dark Side to copy homework on the bus.

Princess Leia is snapping pictures of her brother on the commode and threatening to transmit them to a droid in waiting, if he doesn’t give her the two dollars that he owes her. For a split-second, he sounded like Darth Vader readying his lightsaber and almost kicked the bathroom door off its hinges, trying to keep it closed.

My Wookiee awoke just in time to save the day, stepped on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and in Shyriiwook yelled something like “I’m gonna kick your ass!”

Immediately, I heard the thunder and lightning of little feet fleeing for their lives. They bounded into the kitchen, took in three tablespoons of fuel, ran out the door, and jumped on the Falcon within nanoseconds of its departure.

This is a typical morning at my house.

May the Fourth be with you.