Then your Star Wars-obsessed toddler starts shouting "I see a Wookie, mommy!". You look around...check for Star Wars toys or books, magazines, etc while your toddler is having a complete spaz of excitement. "I see a Wookie, mommy! A WOOOOKIIIIIEEEEEE".
Okay, I didn't see a Wookie anywhere. I don't know what my son was talking about. But I always start telling the story in third-person because what happened was mortifying.
Wait, what is a Wookie? It's Chewbacca - Chewie- from the Star Wars movie series. My son lived and breathed Star Wars at the time because Episode I had just come out in theatres. Everything was a Star Wars toy to him - red licorice was a lightsaber... you get the idea. But if you don't, and have been in hiding somewhere since the 70s, here is a Wookie:
(source: http://tinyurl.com/nj845x6)
So yeah, there didn't seem to be any Wookie toys on the shelves of the newspaper shop we had popped into for a quick treat. I did not spot any magazines with big hairy aliens on the cover... yet my son was persistently and very loudly proclaiming that he "sees a Wookie".
Just as I was paying the cashier, I turned to look where my toddler's crazy-eyed stare was directed and
O.M.F.G
There she was - a Wookie.
Or rather, a woman standing in the line for the postal outlet in the corner.
Or rather, a woman standing in the line for the postal outlet in the corner.
A very tall woman. With long brown dreadlocks. And a black ostrich-feather jacket.
And dark brown leggings. And brown mukluks (fur-covered boots).
Holy &*^%. And my son is quite literally yelling "A WOOKIE!!!! WOOOOOOOKIIIIEEEEEEEE mommmmmyyyyy". Oh crap.
The cashier sees my distress and glances toward the woman. Her eyes go wide and she looks back at me in horror. Oh good, she knows what a Wookie is. She throws my change at me as fast as she can, and I drag my toddler out of the shop while he loses his mind because, MOM, there is a Wookie like RIGHT THERE. Of course he wants to meet this Wookie. Perhaps growl at her, shake her paw, I don't know. I don't care. We are leaving the 6'2" lady Wookie behind.
As the shop door closes, I look down at my son and simply say "Yes Kevin, that was a Wookie".
Thankfully he seemed to accept that and went on to tell the family how he saw a Wookie at the shops.
i.am.mom
help.me
