Awkward Mom vs. Star Wars Camp (Prequel)

Today is Super Kindergartener's first ever summer camp, and it's a dozy. Star Wars Camp. This was me, finding out that I didn't get to go:

Come on! I got dressed up and everything!

Anywho, Super K., his buddy Awesome K., and a plucky band of itty-bitty Jedis will be spending the week saving the galaxy from the evil Empire. Or making lightsabers out of paper towels rolls. I'm not sure. I don't exactly know what they are going to be doing because I just dropped him off and was scuttled out of there by extremely official-looking teenagers with homemade badges in little plastic holders. They kept promising me that he would be "fine" and "have fun" and that I should "go relax." These people have clearly not met Super Toddler, but they meant well. I know he will be fine, but he looked so little and lost at that cafeteria table. Awesome K. was in the bathroom and the little boy next to him didn't engage after Super K.'s "who's your favorite Ewok?" icebreaker. Super K. was looking around with slight terror and I was getting worried that I had plucked him down on Alderaan at the wrong moment.

You see, he is my oldest. My first. And he firsts like a champ. He is the calm, slightly cocky, leader of the Supers. He's gentle. He's sweet. He's smart and impatient and a little whiny on occasion. He's ultra nerdy. He's open to all things. He thinks the Force is for real. He's brave and loyal and faithful. Basically, he's Luke. He's all kinds of Luke.

And Luke gets hurt. Like really hurt. He thinks he's an orphan. I don't think he ever does get those power converters. His aunt and uncle get incinerated. There's the emotional scarring of finding out that your father is Darth Vader, which sucks. His mentor dies. Spectral voices are nice and all, but come on. Then, his ghost mentor sends him to another mentor, who also dies. Or disappears. Or becomes one with the Force. Whatever, he's not here to say cool things in a weird way. And Luke doesn't get the girl because she turns out to favor his cooler friend with a cooler ride. Oh, and she's actually his sister. Then there is the little matter of LOSING HIS HAND.

Super K. is 6 now. He passed Kindergarten with flying colors. He can write and read and do math that is starting to be beyond me. He's amazing and strong, and I have come to think of him as Luke from Return of the Jedi; defying Jabba and saving everyone. Using the Force like a bad-ass and grinning a secret, private smile because he knows just how awesome he has become. That's the Super Kindergartener that I know, but looking at him from across that cafeteria it dawns on me that I might be wrong. Maybe he's A-New-Hope Luke; scared and alone and being beaned in the face with that floating orb thingie Obi Wan was using to teach him about the Force. For goodness sake, he's 6-years-old! I bet you that baby Darth Vader wasn't even flying his pod-racer by age 6.

I am gearing up to go back and rescue him when Awesome K. pops back to the table and whispers something into Super K.'s ear. He flashes her a grin that isn't only Return-of-the-Jedi Luke, but bordering on Han-Solo-level. They both see me and wave. Happy loose waves that reach me long after they have already moved on. They are half paying attention to me anyway. There are rebellions to join and empires to reduce to rubble. There are epic battles to be waged, planets to rescue, and adventures just hovering there on the edge of the horizon. First, those Clone Wars coloring books need some attention, and Luke and Leia there are just the ones to do it. I slip out the door and down the hallway; I'm not ready to become a spectral voice from beyond the Force, but if he needs some space to test his wings, then I can do that. I'll pop over to Tosche Station for the day. We are running low on power converters anyway.

Look at that grin!

Little Luke is growing strong in the Force, even with 2 functioning hands.