If it's so great, howcum yer scratchin' yer tea bag like every ten seconds?

I showed Max Star Wars tonight, after we got home from the annual Thanksgiving tea at his school. I talked to an actress (one I had a major crush on whilst in my younger days) and had a parenting/home schooling conversation with a blues guitarist, which was enlightening and a bit odd. Apparently I need to start empowering Max to become my parent, or someting.

So we get home, and we're on the couch watching R2 and Threepio get in that escape pod and ditch the ship, and Max turns to me and just says "Darth Vader is Luke's father, right?" Okay, so Max had not even heard of Star Wars before today to the best of my knowledge and he intuitively grasped something I could not accept even after I saw The Empire Strikes Back for the first time (I genuinely thought Vader was just trying to trick Luke so he could get him.) I quizzed him a little bit, but he swears no one told him, so I just have to accept that in addition to being hilarious and handsome as the day is long, Max is also psychic. Please son, just wish it away to the cornfield.

Rescue me is getting really, really good (see above.)

Gonna check out Life As We Know It tonight, plus I am officially cancelling future PVR'ing (PVRage? PVRness? PVaRt?) of Desperate Housewives, due to the fact that I do not care that much about the big secret, whatever it is that Sue-Ellen Mishke is hiding.