and I’m the dad.

"The Death Star is so big, I bet there’s a shopping center in it somewhere… and it’s called the Darth Mall."

— Luke, age 7

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What if it was a robot?

Luke:	[age 7] "Do you know anyone who does sci-fi?"
Me:	"Uh... what do you mean by 'does'? Reads it? Writes in? Makes movies?"
Luke:	"Makes movies. Or writes."
Me:	"I used to know a couple of people who wrote science fiction. I mean, anyone can write. I used to write sci-fi short stories, though it was mostly for myself. Why do you ask?"
Luke:	"I've got this idea for a story, and I want someone to write it down."
Me:	"I bet /you/ could write it down. What's your story?"
Luke:	"Well... I was looking at this plate, and I was thinking, what if it was a robot? There could be this bad guy, someone who just likes shooting plates and things and breaking them, so some good scientest guy creates robots that look like plates. Then he sneaks them into the bad guy's kitchen and hides the plates in with his regular plates. And then when the bad guy goes to shoot at his plates, the thing that he thinks is a plate would turn into its robot form" -- [makes mechanical/electronic 'transformation' noises] -- "and arms and legs and lasers would pop out of the plate. And then the robot would shoot the bad guy. Bam! He would be so surprised. It would be a spy plate robot."
Me:	"That sounds cool. You should write it down!"
Luke:	"Maybe after I'm done playing."

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Ham Sandwich or something

[Scene:	Luke, age 6, is playing with Star Wars characters]
Luke:	“Dad, what was the name of Jabba the Hutt’s head guy? Ham Sandwich or something?”
Me:	“You mean Bib Fortuna?”
Luke:	“Yeah, yeah, that guy.”

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