Because Everyone Should Have a Star Wars Name

One day I had had enough. There's only so many times a Mom can hear her name being called by a small, loud, sharp voice. Personally, hearing Mom to the 32nd power is just a little too much in my book. My eldest son is a Star Wars freak. He's also the one that was driving me insane with the constant, "Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom" ad nauseum. I finally looked at him and informed him that my name that day was not Mom and I wasn't going to answer to it and proceeded with what I had been doing before being interrupted for the 500th time.

Ah, finally, blessed silence for the 30 seconds or so that it took his brain to process the information. Then the conversation proceeded thusly:

"Your name's not Mom?"
"No, not today. I have a new name."

Silence again.

"Well, what is your new name?"

I replied (in a James Earl Jones type of voice), "Darth Mommy, because I am your Mutha."

I wanted to hear tiny sharp voice saying "Noooooooooooooo" but it didn't happen.

And so, for the rest of the day I absolutely refused to answer to mom any more. My eldest, of course, thought this was awesome.

Well, this led to a series of discussions about what Star Wars names the other family members should have. Dad was crowned DaddywanKenobi. The eldest became Jor-Jor Stinky Binks ( a play on the name Jar-Jar Binks which is a character that he loves and I hate, but we'll leave that discussion for another day.)

When the new little fella came along, there was much thought put into the Star Wars name he would receive. We needed a name that would be descriptive, something that would really show the true colors of a baby boy, a being that eats, sleeps, poops and spits up and does little else. At long last, inspiration hit and the child was formally dubbed:

wait for it:



Puke Skywalker.

I now present 15 month old Puke Skywalker in action with his brother's light saber: