My Episode I

My daughter is so big now it's hard to pull her out of the car and carry her to the front door. She wraps her arms and legs around me and presses her chin into my shoulder, and I can't help but wonder if I'll be able to do this next year. I can't help but think, thank you Episode I.


My wife opens the door and I throw my leg into the margin of light and warmth so that the dog can't bolt out, I shut the door with my butt and  think, I never really did hate Jar Jar Binks.


I dump my daughter into her bed and she starts laughing because she was never really as asleep as she let on, but thought it would be a gas for her father to lug her 65 pounds around all night, and I hear that John Williams Naboo Celebration song in my head. That piece, I guess I should say, always made me smile.


I pull her boots off and take out her hair band and tell her she still has to brush her teeth, that I don't care out late it is.


But I do care how late it is. Because we only have two movies left.


When she turned four, we watched A New Hope. When she turned five, you guessed it.
On the way home from watching that first one, I asked her what her favorite part was and she said
"When they all got married." She was talking about the medals ceremony after Luke blew up the Deathstar. "Yeah, that's a good part, baby."


This was the first year she was able to stay awake for the whole thing. This year she told me who Padme was, and slowly enunciated "Anakin" over and over for her aunt. This year she hid her face when Darth Maul killed Qui-Gon Jinn.


After that, how could I tell anyone that Episode I was the worst Star Wars movie ever? How can the worst Star Wars movie ever make my daughter giddy with laughter when Annie yells "Yippee!" after Watoo lets him off early?


Next year she'll be eight for Attack of the Clones. Will I be able to pull her out of the car then?


When it's time for Revenge of the Sith will she even want to finish the tradition with her dorky old dad?