A couple weeks ago my son Scott turned five years old. October is birthday season among his circle of friends with the majority of our weekends containing at least one, if not two, themed parties. One friend had an art project party, another had a rain forest themed party, and an apple bobbing celebration is coming up this weekend. Scott opted for a "monster dance party" event, which was certainly influenced by the very present Halloween season. Among Scott's borderline excessive present haul -- he's got some generous relatives -- were some great Star Wars items that both Scott and I couldn't wait to take home and tear into. And this got me to thinking. I'm often the one patting myself on the back for bringing Star Wars into my child's life as if presenting some sacred life-altering religious text, but I'd been overlooking the fact that Scott has introduced ME to some elements of Star Wars that I'd likely never have had encountered on my own.

Now this isn't to say that I COULDN'T have sought out the aspects of Star Wars that Scott has inadvertently brought to my attention, but for example I probably never would have picked up any of the kid-centric Galactic Heroes without having a youngling in the house. On a lucky occasion when he was able to select one toy from the toy store, Scott scored a "Rancor Pit Cinema Scene" which allowed him to indulge his early obsession with the rancor in a more accessible, toothless (pun not necessarily intended) form. A Gamorrean Guard, modeled in that universal Galactic Heroes crouching position with limbs splayed as if he were about to begin a sumo wrestling match, could be tossed down the rancor's gullet and immediately pop back into play courtesy of the trap door in the monster's backside. This was followed by a surprisingly cool Darth Vader's TIE Fighter with a toddler sized Dark Lord of the Sith to pilot the craft. I simply never would have pursued this kiddie line of toys were it not for Scott's choice to bring them into the fold. And I'm glad he did. Those little Gamorreans serve as unique army builders to the other 3 ¾" action figures making up Jabba's court.

His 5th birthday also introduced Scott to what he currently claims to be his favorite thing to do: play with Star Wars Legos. Within the span of seven birthday-surrounding days, Scott acquired the Lego Star Wars Visual Dictionary, the "Clone Walker Battle Pack", and had opted to spend some birthday money on the "Assassin Droids Battle Pack". (Plus, he left the Toys 'R' Us confidently informing me that "next time, we'll get that one", "that one" being the Hailfire Droid & Spider Droid Clone Wars set.) I twas a Lego Maniac growing up, and spent hours building and rebuilding "Space" and "Castle" Lego sets on my living room carpet trying not to lose the tiny swords and ray guns. Aside from the personal satisfaction of a job well done after assembling the "Lego Space Intergalactic Command Base" set, it was a Christmas Day tradition to assemble a set with a deaf relative I'd see only once or twice a year at extended family gatherings. Regular communication may have been difficult, but English wasn't required for the two of us to decipher building instructions and to sift through plastic parts to locate a gray radar dish piece.

But the Star Wars Lego line simply didn't exist in my youth, which judging by the price tags on some of the new sets is probably just as well. I think I sprained my neck when double-taking the price of the "Ultimate Collector's Millennium Falcon" set. Did that say FIVE hundred something?! PLEASE don't manifest that collecting completist gene Scott.

Scott dove into his Star Wars Lego sets with a concentrated fervor. Not that these are overly complicated sets, but Scott is a fairly recent graduate from the chunky Duplo preschool blocks and had quickly relegated me to a supervisory role as he assembled the vehicles, soldiers, and droids. This solo achievement is also notable because, since the age of two, Scott has combated low muscle tone , loose joints, and a general noodlish quality with physical and occupational therapy. The improvements have been dramatic over the years and watching his small hands deftly and patiently snap together the tiny blocks like countless others his age was a small victory for both child and parents.

I was an action figure collector well into adulthood, but cut myself off when Scott was born. I figured that the toy budget should probably be spent on the actual child in the house, and no longer on the grown-up with the childlike tendencies. The plan was to little by little expose Scott to all the things about Star Wars that ignited my imagination growing up. But I never anticipated how often he'd open MY eyes to the fun of the saga. We stage adventures with HIS toys. We discuss characters and role-play scenarios that interest HIM. We discuss HIS questions and theories about the characters. Scott has introduced me to portions of Star Wars fandom that I never would have found on my own.

Sharing Star Wars is a two-way hyperspace lane. To paraphrase "A New Hope" the Learner is well on his way to becoming the Master and I wouldn't have it any other way. I can't to see what new wonders Scott has introduced me to by the time he turns six.