“DADDY, let’s play ‘Star Wars.’ I’ll be Dark Vader. This is my light saver.”

My son, Milo, stands in the living room. He holds a soft yellow Nerf bat, swishing it like a sword. It’s understandable that he calls it a light “saver” and not a saber, and that he’s “Dark,” not Darth. After all, he’s only 3.

But what is far more perplexing to me is how he became so obsessed with a 35-year-old movie that he’s never seen. And it’s not just him; so, too, every other boy in his preschool. Friends and colleagues around the country with young sons tell me the Force has taken over their households, also.

“How do you play ‘Star Wars’?” I ask Milo.

“Like this,” he pronounces, turning circles while swinging his bat: raw, kinetic boy energy.

Other parents tell me they are also bewildered by their sons’ “Star Wars” obsession. Perhaps the younger ones heard about it from an older sibling. Or maybe it’s just further proof that marketing can create a mythology as elemental as Mother Goose. American consumers spend about $500 million a year on “Star Wars” toys, clothing, video games and just about anything else you can think of, according to NPD, a research firm.