Operating Instructions:

1. Connect the spoon to the handle.

2. On the base of the handle, push the black power switch toward the spoon bowl to turn the power on.

3. Push the red button on the top of the handle to activate the spoon light.

This poetry adorns the transparent bag that formerly held my newest tchotchke, a light-up lightsaber spoon. Gerry and I were at walmart earlier to buy food and examine the summer movie promotion swag. Naturally, it's all Star Wars stuff, especially the cereal. Menacing portraits of characters from the third prequel mugging over bowls of milk-soaked cornflakes for the length of the aisle- it's quite something. We stopped to admire a box of crispix with a mail-away offer for an R2-D2 bowl that makes character-appropriate noises when acted upon by some outside force, such as the weight of cereal in the bowl. Gerry and I deliberated over this and determined that the cereal would indeed be a worthwhile purchase with the offer of a bowl resembling an astromech droid. How can you go wrong? A few feet from this was a box of apple jacks emblazoned with Anakin Skywalker. I'm not sure the cereal company meant for me to associate their cereal with the character responsible for the wholesale slaughter of nearly all of the Jedi in the Republic, or the personification of Campbell's archetype of evil, but the important thing is that the box contained the lightsaber spoon. I don't eat cereal, as it doesn't work to carry milk and cereal in my cupped hands as I walk to work. Gerry is more the cereal type, so we agreed that I would buy the cereal and he would eat it, but I get the spoon. For just shy of three bucks, I'd say I got a good deal. I opened the box and the prize was right there on top. We could hardly contain our enthusiasm as I struggled through the layers of plastic packaging to assemble my new utensil. I deliberately avoided pressing any buttons to save the surprise of the color of light that would soon illuminate the plastic spoon and every bit of food I will ingest for the next few weeks. I assembled the item according to the instructions above, moved the small black switch up, and pressed the power button. Gerry and I both gasped audibly as the spoon lit up blazingly red. It looked even cooler with the light out- my kitchen was illuminated by a spoon. It's worth waiting for the sun to go down to eat with a lightsaber spoon, in case any of you need a little extra incentive for Passover.