Grasshopper (the eight-year-old) has two friends over for an overnight. They are listening to Hardingfele music and playing a Jedi role-playing game improvised from the D&D system.
Adventure Boy (the twelve-year-old) has been summoned to act as judge on two minor arguments about Star Wars cannon, and to help with one or two applications of role-playing math. Also, there was a minor discussion as to how long copyrights last (conclusion: 20 years).
Dinner menu: Hot Dogs, Mac –n- Cheese, green peas, mini cupcakes and Mt. Dew.
Ah yes, the geekage of the next generation is safe, Captain. Secure from General Quarters.
[update: Grasshopper (in the role of gamemaster) just definativly put the kibosh on one of the other boys shooting someone who was already dead in an armed combat situation. (I'm paraphrasing here):
GH: "You can't shoot him! He's already dead!"
Other Boy: "I need target practice, and anyway, he's dead. It's not like he's gonna care."
GH: "That's mutillation! It's a War Crime"
Other Boy: "You didn't mind me shooting him when he was alive. That's worse."
GH: "When he was alive, he was a bad guy. Now he's not."
Other Boy (sarcastically) "Oh, well...THAT makes sense."
What I've learned from this: I'm not 100% ready to observe eight year olds playing role-playing games.]