This morning while driving to The Girl and The Boy to school, we were chit-chatting. The Boy wasn't really paying attention, only butting in every few sentences or so. And then we saw him at the midway crossing: Mace Windu.
Mace Windu works at The Girl's high school. Tall, dark, shiny dome, and forever pointing a finger, he's in charge of discipline, and the kids say he's mean. The Girl supposed he was even in the military.
"In the military"? What does that mean, I ask. She explains that military people are, you know, like that. Like what, I inquire. The Girl says that military people, you know, are just mean.
I reminded her that her dad has 18 years on active duty, and he's not "like that."
The Boy perked up and asked, "What, bald?"
Mace Windu works at The Girl's high school. Tall, dark, shiny dome, and forever pointing a finger, he's in charge of discipline, and the kids say he's mean. The Girl supposed he was even in the military.
"In the military"? What does that mean, I ask. She explains that military people are, you know, like that. Like what, I inquire. The Girl says that military people, you know, are just mean.
I reminded her that her dad has 18 years on active duty, and he's not "like that."
The Boy perked up and asked, "What, bald?"
Mace Windu vs Mister, or
Like that vs. not quite like that!
1 comment:
I dunno. I distinctly remember him convincing me (with the Force) to go out to eat all the time.
Or maybe that was me convincing him.
Uh...whatever.
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