Logic, Pure and Simple

My son wants another blue lightsaber. We got him the red and blue ones while in New York City last summer. His first words to his Nana upon disembarking the plane were not, “I love you!” or “I missed you!” or “I went to New York City!” but “I got a blue lightsaber!” We didn’t get him the green lightsaber, which typically denotes Jedi Knight status because he wanted the same weapon as Padawan-ranked ‘Hobie-One’ from Episode One. The red saber, obviously, is for bad guys.

So he tells me yesterday that he needs another blue lightsaber. I’m pretty sure it’s because he wants to be able to act out the climactic battle between Hobie-One and Anakin in Episode Three, in which Anakin becomes badly wounded and completes his transition over to the Dark Side. Now, he’s four, so he’s never seen Episode Three. I’m not a perfect parent by far, but I’m not about to show a four-year-old the darkest chapter in the Star Wars saga. I get enough trouble with him trying to play Jedi Battle at school—I can only imagine the notes that would be sent home if he were to re-enact the Anakin-to-Darth Vader transition for his classmates.

This of course, makes Episode Three all the more enticing to him. He stares at pictures from the movie hungrily, desperate to see them in action. He plays the Episode Three level of Lego Star Wars and watches the brick people fight, asking questions, trying to understand how Anakin could possibly want to become evil. He’s got a kid’s book, kind of an encyclopedia of people and places in Star Wars, that he carries around with him to the point that I’m not sure it’s binding is going to withstand the year. There’s a picture in it from the climactic battle in which both Hobie-One and Anakin have blue lightsabers and they’re locked in a heated dual. He stares at this picture for what seems like hours, desperately trying to will it to action so he can watch it (maybe using the Force?).

“Mom, I need a new blue lightsaber.”

“You already have a blue lightsaber. We need to get you the green one, though.”

“But Mom, I need a blue lightsaber.”

“Why do you need another blue lightsaber?”

“Because I need it.”

“But why? Why do you need it?”

“Because I need it.”

“Buy why? Explain to me why you need another blue lightsaber when the one you have is perfectly fine and you’re missing a green one.”

“Okay, I’m going to ‘splain it to you.” He looks at me to make sure I’m paying full attention, so as not to miss his brilliant argument. Dramatic gesturing of hands. “I need it."

How do I argue with that logic?