“Is it time yet?” Little Tony asked with anticipation.
“Not yet, sweetie. Three more sleeps,” he was told.
“Is it time yet?” he asked just as enthusiastically the following day.
“No sweetie, two more sleeps,” came the answer.
“Is it time yet?” he asked the day after that.
“Just one more sleep, sweetie,” he was promised.
And the next day, that promise was fulfilled.
“It’s my special day, isn’t it?!” Little Tony said.
“Yes, it is. And if you’re extra good, I’ll give you money for popcorn and soda.”
“Really?! Can I wear my evil intergalactic warlord helmet, too?”
“Yes, but you have to leave your illuminated resistance fighter sword at home.”
“Awwww,” he whined.
“Sorry, but in this day and age, people can’t tell if it’s just a guy in a costume sitting next to them in the theatre or a guy with sinister intentions.”
“That’s okay. This is still going to be the best day ever!”
“Better than the day we got married?” Little Tony’s wife asked.
“Absolu — I mean, the second best day ever!” he said in an attempt to worm his way out of that slip up.
With that, thirty-eight year old Little Tony Sena, son of Big Tony Sena, and his friends drove off to the theatre to see the latest installment in that movie franchise whose trademarked name this storyteller refuses to put in writing out of fear of being sued. But everyone more than likely knows what she’s referring to because everyone on the planet has had this film shoved down their throats for the past month.
Enjoy your special day, geeks. Enjoy your special day.