Over on Glory Thorpe's 3 Monkeys and a Martini blog, Ms. Thorpe confesses to being married to a Star Wars maniac, raising another, and finding herself under policy scrutiny as a result:
Here in the Monkey House, we like Star Wars. Actually, we're kind of obsessed. And it all started during the brief whirlwind of a courtship between Mr. Martini and I. One night after some, umm, imbibing, Mr. Martini opened the closet and seemingly out of thin air came five full replica light sabers -- the kind that could be a movie prop if you didn't know better. At the time, I could have cared less about Star Wars. That was until my first 2am parking lot light saber battle with the neighbors. I was intrigued.
My intrigue turned to shock when I learned that the handsome, refined, debonair Mr. Martini was in fact the world's biggest Star Wars geek. Upon moving in, I realized that most of the closet space in the apartment was filled with bin upon bin of unopened Star Wars figures, ranging from vintage to brand spanking new. This was not a passing casual interest. Oh no, this was a full on addiction. And apparently that is also a genetic trait passed from father to son in some weird Star Wars transferal during conception.
So it came as no surprise when Silly Monkey said he wanted to be R2D2 for Halloween. And of course there was not a single R2D2 costume in the galaxy that would fit this 3-year-old junkie. So being the enabler that I am, I decided to make one.
It took days, several trips to Office Depot, the hardware store, lots of glue, some power tools, and at least one phone call to the police as another mom at the store watched me gently place my son in a trash can to see if he's fit. As if I was making some kind of sick Silly Monkey casket. Dumbass.
Follow the link to read the rest of the post and see more pictures of this terrific R2-D2 Halloween costume.