Not a merry man

In the fickle mind of my 4-year-old, Superman has ceded his prominence to that legendary benefactor of the proletariat, Robin Hood.

 

We have an animated, non-Disney-fied version of Robin Hood, which features British accents, a more complex dialogue and a plot line that sticks close to the original legends.

 

And what little boy wouldn't love Robin Hood's life in the forest, his skills with the bow and the sword, and his noble cause. And I've always been fond of all things medieval, anyway.

 

My son has reguarly requested Robin Hood for his allotted TV time but last night's airing surprised me.

 

Watching the final sword fight behind the outlaw and the sheriff of Nottingham, my son took the drama very personally. At one point, Robin lost his sword, provoking a fit of tears from my son.

 

"Mommy, Robin lost his sword. He needs his sword," he cried, fearful for what could happen. Never mind that he had already watched this scene at least four other times.

 

Mommy ran to his side, assuring him that the resourceful woodsman would figure out what to do. And he did of course, using somebody else's sword to counter-parry his way to victory.

 

I just didn't know my son would take this fight between good and evil to heart so much.