Guest Post From 4-Year-Old Luke: DinoHawk

Once upon a time, there was a man. He got turned into a lizard by radiation. Then, he
got turned into a dino by more radiation. Finally, he was turned into a hawk. He had a rainbow colored beak and big sharp teeth inside. He had humongous feathered wings,
with scales on the feathers and very large feet that went all the way to China. He was called DinoHawk.

DinoHawk lived in a huge dirt hole in Tucson that water flooded all up. It was so huge
that almost all the houses fell in. The houses that weren’t in the hole were tilted towards the hole. He lived with his Mom and Dad and sister. They were all DinoHawks, too. The sister was all pink, the mom was all purple, and the dad was the same color as the boy DinoHawk. They were all humongous.

For fun, DinoHawk and his family liked to water and make tunnels, so they could go
places. The DinoHawks were also sea monsters with feet and hands. The cactus monsters were their friends. Everybody else was their enemy.

The DinoHawk family was mad that the houses had cameras and cannons to destroy the them. So they stomped all the houses and ate all the people.

God made the DinoHawks turn back into hawks and then dinos and then lizards and then
people again. Also, the people were made back by God. It was all about God. He made
all the people come back and all the houses be built back by builders.

Coming To A Laser Hologram Theater Near You

Inspired by Thor, my 4 year old son has announced the first two films he'll direct. The first movie will be called Creatures of Dino Dan: Marvel vs. Capcom 10, and will star Dino Dan (a dinosaur-man creature he invented), as well as Godzilla, the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters, the Ghostbusters themselves, Thor, Green Lantern, Iron Man, Og (Which calls Joker when he becomes a giant after ingesting Bane's venom drug) and Captain America.

He said after that movie he and his preschool friends, who will help him make his films, he will make Dawn of Dino Dan: Marvel vs. Capcom 10, which I assume will be a prequel, and will star "all the same guys." He said no girls other than his mother will be allowed to watch the movies, because they would have nightmares for months and months.

Don't expect these movies to hit theaters for a while, if for no other reason than all the time it will take to work out all the intellectual property rights involved with the characters.

Luke's Jim Crow Laws

Discrimination in Arizona isn't limited to HB1070. Luke (3) has tried to restrict access to the backyard playhouse to Emma (1) because of her still-developing speech abilities.

"The castle is only for people who talk easily," Luke says.

He's been overruled by the Supreme Court, me, but sadly reflects the biased sentiments of half the child populace in my household.

Tractor Boy

Luke is big into improv. He likes to cast me and himself as teammates in various ventures such as farming, war, racing and dragon/dinosaure/robot killing. He tends to make himself the man and me the boy. For instance, when he is Tractor Man, I am Tractor Boy. When he is Batman I am Robin. When is Good Army Man, I am Good Army Boy (we fight The Bad Army). And often we are the Bad Army, battling that uppity Good Army.

These games are quite informative, as he interprets my parenting style and discipline and inflicts his version of them on me. For instance, this morning I tried to turn on the tractor (an ottoman) by turning the imaginary key.

"No, Tractor Boy," he said sternly. "That's too dangerous. Don't you touch that or you can't watch a show later."

Sometimes he offers subtle hints of how he'd like to be treated when the situations are reversed. He calls himself The Maker and starts messing around with the effeminate play kitchen Jessica insisted on buying him at a garage sale. Then he says "Boy, here's some ice cream."

"Don't I have to eat my dinner first?" I ask.

"No, that's OK. That's your rule. My own rule is you eat ice cream."

That is one of the few benefits of being the boy. Mostly I am condescended to, sheltered and forced to wait there idly as Luke accomplishes his tasks. Yesterday I was so bold as to get up and go to the bathroom.

"Did I say you could leave?" Luke shouted.

Such is life as Tractor Boy.

Number Luke

My 3-year-old son Luke has taken to naming monuments after himself. While driving up I-10 toward Phoenix, he asked Jessica what Piacho Peak was called. She responded "Picacho Peak." He shot back. "No, I think it's 'Number Luke.'"

He calls the peak "Number Luke" whenever we drive past it now, and I've adapted the term as well. Someday they'll throw out the old name and usher in the new one.

Luke has also named our future dog. For those who don't know, our beloved lab Goose succumbed to bone cancer late last year. Luke has declared that our next dog will be "WorseGoose," since no future dog could possibly equal the excellence of Goose. Luke took it a couple steps further by declaring it wouldn't be acceptable to have just one dog, but we'd need at least three. The other dogs would be "Daddy WorseGoose" and "Mommy WorseGoose." He foresees an entire lineage of dogs with the "WorseGoose" surname.

Jessica laughed it off, but I pretty much will demand that our next dog actually be named WorseGoose. It's impossible to think of a better name.

We passed Number Luke yesterday while discussing the future WorseGoose, and I bragged to Luke that before he was born I climbed Number Luke several times. Unimpressed, he shot back "why?"

I paused for a while, incapable of a coherent response, before babbling something about how it gave me a view that let me see far, far away. Luke didn't buy it, responding with "No, why?"