Open Letter to Star Wars Geeks

Dear Childless Adults Who Are Buying All of the New Star Wars Toys,

Stop it.

Christmas is coming. I have kids' wish lists to fulfill. You're all-out nerdiness and devotion to The Jedi or The Dark Side might've been cool in your twenties, but you're pushing fifty. You're embarrassing yourself with your Instagram/Twitter/Facebook posts of you inside ToysRUs/Party City/Target cheesing while you hold up every Star Wars box on the shelves, or try on all of the dress-up masks, or pose with several lightsabers. I'm not interested in your plans to keep those toys in "pristine condition," to banish them to a bookcase where their packages will simply collect dust while the figures stare vacantly into your childless house, longing for a set of young hands to free them from their cellophane jails and pop off their heads.

And frankly, tweeting how you're going to sell the duplicates you bought to desperate parents via Ebay is not only soulless and cruel, it's the reason your car keeps getting keyed.

Your plans to hang that Millennium Falcon from your bedroom ceiling, along with several Tie Fighters and Imperial Star-ships, is a great idea. For an eight year old. An eight year old who is friendless and weak and binges on Cheetos while staring at his ceiling, rather than playing Star Wars with his friends. Because he has no friends.

I should not have to endure hearing, "I just snagged the last one!" when I arrive in the toy section of my local store in search of a remote-controlled BB-8. Especially since I've already been to said store fourteen times, after each delivery day, only to be met by some geek like you who has "snagged the last one." I should not have to hound-dog to the Customer Service counter to ask after the next delivery day. Nor should I have to endure the looks I get from the store employee when I irately explain that I need BB-8 for my kid's Christmas present. As if BB-8 is for adults. As if the notion of actually playing with a toy is absurd.

You've brainwashed these employees into believing in the twisted world of no-play toys. I'm sure there's a ring of hell just waiting for you.

When your Twitter feed explodes with pictures of you opening dusty boxes, hoarded for years by your parents, filled with the Star Wars toys you collected as a kid and those you bought when the three prequel movies were released, you're simply crying out to be noticed, to be part of a group. I get it. But that's either one of two groups: the group that has children and has saved toys for their children to play with/ give as Christmas gifts OR the group that, in the wee hours of the morning, stages little movie reenactments with the figurines. One of these groups does not belong on Twitter and should keep their arrested-development toy playing to themselves.

And why are you buying Star Wars child-sized t-shirts and hoodies? Moreover, why are you wearing them in public? Aren't there conventions where you can do that sort of thing in private? Or at least away from the general public? Hell hath no fury like a toddler who sees a grown woman wearing the very Chewbacca hoodie he was begging for only moments before. A toddler whose mother frantically searched the racks, sure there would be just one XS, only to be thwarted by nothing but size XL.

Those mothers hate you.

You're really just giving soon-to-be-senior-citizens a bad name. Are you, in a few years, going to take those figurines to the nursing home? Is bragging about their showroom condition going to ward off dementia? Do you plan on lining your coffin with Star Wars toys?

These are not milestones set by any rational adult.

Do the rest of us a favor: put down the toys. Admire them from the pet food aisles across from the toy section, then move along like the other childless couples. Those of us who didn't crash the Fandango site are depending on those toys to keep our kids from interrupting what little "us" time we still have. Go enjoy your "us" time--you've got plenty of it.

And if you just can't live without your Star Wars figurines, do what any respectable nerd would do and buy the overly-abundant Marvel toys and paint/sculpt them into your own, personalized, Star Wars figures. You've got the time. Plenty of it.

With thanks,

Mom of Three Star Wars Kids (and I mean real kids, not pets)