My daughter is in deep, mad, crush with you. Well, not you exactly, but Indiana Jones. Please don't take it personally, I'm sure you can understand. Six months ago we allowed her to watch Raiders of the Lost Ark with us for family movie night. She watched with wide eyes full of awe. She was hooked. Really hooked. I got her a Lego Indiana Jones DS game for her birthday, I thought she was going to cry. She begged her Daddy to dress as Indiana Jones for Halloween. I thought it was just a quick, sweet, passing phase. Then everyday after school she started doing this:
And the piece de resistance: Our Disney Trip. Some little girls go to Disney to meet the princesses and buy the frilly dresses. Laura's moment of zen was the Indiana Jones Stunt Show. She saw it no less than five times. I made her Dad take one for the team and watch them with her. I was beginning to be able to recite all the lines. I know she could.
On our last day we were rambling down one of the walkways at Hollywood Studios when she stopped still in the middle of the masses, her sights zooming into some random store. She began to walk, then run toward a display in the distance. There, on the shelf in front of her was the Holy Grail, no the Ark of the Covenant for an Indiana Jones lover. It was a package, not with princesses or Mickey Mouse or any of that. No, it had every figure from the Raiders of the Lost Ark movie. It even had a snake, a torch, and a miniature Ark of the Covenant. With trembling hands she looked up into my eyes and quietly asked if this could be her one toy for her trip. (Did you guys have your parents do that? Kids, you can choose ONE toy for under $20. ONLY one.) Of course I said yes (not to mention it was only $12.99--how can you beat that at Disney??) and I seriously thought she was going to cry. She rushed into my arms, kissed my belly over and over, and said, "Oh Mommy! Thank you! Thank you! I love you!" As soon as we got back to our hotel room she ripped the package open and Indiana Jones found himself in another grave adventure.
I don't know how long this little phase will last. But I know it is true love. If you ever get tired of annoying, leechy fans, know you have a seven-year-old whose love is true.