(My father’s friend is hosting a Christmas dinner at their place. As the adults start drinking in the dining room, most of the kids all run up to the TV, but I decide to accompany our host’s younger son, who is around nine. He takes me to his room and wants to play.)
Son: “Let’s fight!”
(He takes out a drawer filled with toy weapons.)
Me: “Sure, but I’ll just use this.”
(I pull out my younger brother’s toy lightsaber.)
Son: “Okay, but you’re gonna lose.”
(He equips a Nerf gun and his own toy lightsaber. We stand at opposite sides of the room.)
Son: “Go!”
(He then fires his Nerf gun at me, but I block the bullet with my lightsaber, stride forward, and knock both of his weapons aside with the lightsaber before tapping him lightly on the neck)
Me: “You’ve been decapitated.”
Son: “What? How did you do that?
Me: “The people in my fencing class can stab faster than a Nerf bullet.”
Son: “Cool! You’re a Jedi!”
Me: *deepens voice* “May the Force be with you, youngling.”
(I was telling the truth; my fencing classmates are fast. But I was actually watching the barrel of his gun and angling my lightsaber to be directly in front of it. Don’t tell him that, though. I have the reputation of a Jedi to maintain.)
