Mark Pavilons
You are not a Jedi yet, my son!

"I want to be grown-up so I can do anything I want," said the rambunctious, curlyhaired five-year-old, who's filled with as much optimism as curiosity.

"You are not a Jedi yet, my son," said his father, perpetuating our Star Warsthemed holiday season. I can't take credit for Liam's interest in Darth Vader - I'm a die-hard Trekker. But, as a science fiction fan, who am I to curb the boy's enthusiasm? Even Kyleigh got into the act, mimicking Vader's infamous mechanically assisted breathing sounds. Cute.

I smiled, and other adults in the vicinity who overheard this young lad's utterance, smiled with me. I mentioned that he had it all wrong - as an adult you can't really do whatever you want, whenever you feel. As a child, however, you're virtually free to experiment - testing the waters of social norms and trying the patience of your parental units.

To be truly free, once again. Does that mean in order to feel unhindered by those same social norms we teach our younglings, we have to become young again ourselves? There's no turning back. Time is, and always will be, a very fleeting and priceless commodity. Ask any billionaire in the world what money can't buy and invariably the consistent answer will be "time."

Being a rather large adolescent at heart (okay, preteen), I am the last person who wants my charges to grow up hastily. No, the same dad who chased Liam around a local box store, demanding he engage me in swashbuckling forays with our borrowed foam sabres, is the same man who collects model airplanes and tiny spaceships. If I had the power, I'd stretch my children's childhood years as long as I could.

Odd, isn't it, that as youngsters we long to be older, and as adults we'd give up anything in the world to be young again? This is one of humanity's ultimate ironies.

Liam tends to think in longer increments. As most kids proudly proclaim their age in fractions, he recalls events when he was three, and looks forward to 10 or young adulthood. And, he can hardly wait to get there, too.

I have told him (and my eldest Lexie) to put the brakes on and take the next curve with caution and foresight. You'll get there soon enough, I advise, noting the younger years are the most fun.

Liam desperately wants to be an astronaut and Lexie is torn between artistic endeavors and medicine.

When I was under 10, I didn't think much past the current season, or whether my bike needed a new accessory. I knew when my favorite TV shows were on, and I read comic books. The world was a lot quieter then.

Fortunately, Liam is a true kid and unlike Pinocchio, a "real boy."

He loves wandering around the rec. room wearing his Vader voice-changing mask and helmet, waving his light saber around with some importance. It's kind of fun to watch - it's childhood at its purest.

It makes me jump right in and enjoy the moment. I had no trouble "playing Star Wars" with my son over the holiday break. But, like every good science fiction adventure, it has to come to an end and reality is always just outside the front door.

That being said, just who is responsible for our constricting, limiting adulthood behaviour? (Yes, that was a rhetorical question.)

As a society, we collectively, albeit subtly, decide on what's in and what's out; what's acceptable, and what is no longer palatable. Sure, times change, and so do our attitudes. Clothing trends change like the proverbial winds, and so do our concerns for the environment, our own health and our definition of what's noble, beautiful and distasteful. Sad that segments of our society are more concerned about odd, runway apparel than genocide in Africa, conflict in the Middle East or homelessness on our city streets.

Just who are the current attitude makers anyway? Some would say it's in the hands of mass media and marketing gurus, while others say it's a ripple from current parenting practises.

Seeing a grown man and his son dart through the isles of a store, having a sword fight, may be deemed as strange. But I must admit, there were a few smiles on the faces of some moms in the store - they knew the inherent value in this display.

The squeaky giggles coming from my son as we bent some rules and went about on our "mission" were priceless.

And he wants to grow up.

You have much to learn, Master Liam.

In order to "live long and prosper" we must enjoy the simple things and laugh often. Surround yourself with what you love, no matter what that is. Tell people you love them at every opportunity.

I want to have to have fun with my kids, before they realize the old guy wearing the cape is not a superhero or Jedi Knight, but just dad.

Stay young!