Unflattering Recognition

My loving wife bought me the three DVDs of the re-re-(re?)-released Star Wars trilogy, Episodes IV-VI, for Christmas. This particular money grab -ahem- release includes both the newfangled remix (Greedo shooting first and all) and the old-school, rubber-puppet, deserted Mos Eisley, no-Jabba-meeting versions. I was rewatching them recently and decided to pick up Episode III: The Revenge of the Sith 2-DVD set on a whim.

You know, it's not a horrible movie. It's actually got some really good moments... but I digress.

Daigoro has been a bit ill the last few days, runny nose, cough; generally surly. To keep him a little more amicable, we've been letting him have a little more screen time (our code for watching TV and computer videos) than usual. So yesterday it came to be that he was plunked on the sofa while I had Revenge of the Sith playing, mostly as background noise, while I cleaned the room.

A scene came on with Yoda and Mace Windu. Yoda, in the event you've been living in a cave since 1982, is a old, wizened, frog/lizard like character who dispenses sage advice in twisted-around English.

Daigoro looked at the wrinkled, sunken and grey-haired creature talking on screen and looked up at his mother.

"Great-gramma," he announced, pointing at Yoda.

My grandmother is 91 years old as of the time of this writing. She's no spring chicken. She will never read this blog, I am fairly certain of it. If my siblings or parents ever tell that poor, sweet woman that my son thinks she looks like Yoda, I will kill them. With a lightsaber.