So Darth Vader came to me this morning for help getting dressed. His expression remained unflinchingly stern as I took off his monkey-playing-basketball cotton jammies and lobster underwear and replaced it with Go, Diego, Go underwear, a green polo with an alligator on it and blue cotton shorts. He reluctantly accepted his mommy kiss before heading off to face his day of tyrannical rule.
Monday morning, he had been in the bathroom awhile so I asked him if he needed anything. "Yes," he said. "You need to make anudder bafroom in dis house. We need two places for dis. Go make us anudder bafroom, mama!"
Yes, Dark Lord. Right away, Dark Lord. Just as soon as I catch some sleep and get all the bedding washed that you were sick on the night before.
Except, to hear him tell, "I am not sick. My tummy hurts and I am frow-uppy a lot, but dat is not sick."
He goes on to his business of collecting Legos into his bag. "But I do not kallekt da wed ones. Wed is not a color dat I love, so doze can dest stay dere. I just lefted dem on da floor!"
Besides, him being frow-uppy is all my fault. After all, I'm the one that deigned to bring him some Pediasure in the night. "I dest wanted wadder. You brought me dat shake. I asked for wadder." His agitation increases as he goes on to explain, "Dat shake is wat made me all frow-uppy and you da one dat made me dwink it, mama! Why you want me dat way all da night time?"
Perhaps it was an attempt to overthrow the Empire and return control to the Republic?