The three elementary-aged kids outside want to be characters from Star Wars. The little boy is trying to stake a claim. “Who is, you know Chewy? You know Chewbacca? What’s his friend’s name? The human guy.”
The taller blonde girl will be Princess Leia. She speaks of all the fun things she’ll do. They walk on the sidewalk like it is a balance beam, avoiding the puddles from the afternoon rain. The girls wear pink crocs, identical, and the smaller girl follows her sister like a dear shadow.
The small sister with red hair jumps, “And then I’ll be…I can be…”
“Landoooooo,” the boy leaps and rushes past them making sound effects.
”But are there any other girls?”
Her older sister assures her: “You could be Padme. She’s beautiful. Oh, and at the same time, she rules. She’s the queen.”
The boy rushes back to encourage the choice: “Padme. Yes! And she has beautiful hair. Oh my goodness hair. She’s kind of, oh my gosh.”
This seems assurance enough, so their play may begin.