Armed but not ready

Today's blog-worthy conversation with the Darling Son spliced a bit of movie fantasy and a boy issue waiting to happen and Mommy's favorite hobby.

The connecting point: a sword.

I have had a sword for a few years now. I am not the type of person that many people would associate with a sword, unless you already know that T'ai Chi Chu'an is a martial art that uses weapons. I have a stainless steel blade, with a red Chinese knotted tassel and a lovely dragon engraving.

Point two -- a few people had warned me that one crucial boy stage was a fascination with weapons. In the midst of playtime will come a gun battle, or at least a shooting attempt, a battle of some sort. The fighting comes instinctly, if not necessarily as an attack mechanism, but as a chance for heroics.

We had tried to forestall the weapons stage by limiting his exposure to such things. It was a big reason why Star Wars was verboten, because my Darling Redhead seemed convinced that a stormtrooper scene was the reason why the boy started shooting at things in the first place. I remain convinced that some older kid in the playground started pretend-shooting, which my son happily picked up.

Avoiding all weapons becomes impossible in the long run, especially when your child grows up from Baby Einstein and Winnie the Pooh to the likes of Shrek. And when your child just happens to come across your own personal sword, which had been temporarily moved out of your trunk and left in an odd, but highly conspicuous place.

Which brings me to this evening's conversation of note:

Boy: "Mommy, what your sharp thing for?"
Mommy: "Oh, my sword?"
Boy: "You use your sword for T'ai Chi?"
Mommy: "Yes, sweetie."
Boy: "You use it for fighting? for dragons?"
Mommy: "I suppose I could. But I have never met a dragon."
Boy: "Why we fight dragons?"
Mommy: "Well, honey, dragons can be dangerous. But I wouldn't worry because I've never met a dragon."
Boy: "I can have one too, OK?" (Head tilts) "A small one?"