OUR conversation over the breakfast table yesterday went like this: “Mum, what’s better? A lightsaber, a gun or the Force?”

Having little knowledge of weaponry and even less interest, I guessed that a gun would surely do the trick as it could be used from a safe distance unlike the other two.

My assumption was far off the mark, it seems. “No!” said my rather more informed son emphatically, as the cogs of his mind started to whirr.

Apparently a lightsaber would be able to deflect an oncoming bullet and, incredibly, even send it back towards the gun in question where it would then explode and kill the shooter.

That’s a fact I never thought I’d learn over my morning coffee, and probably one more die-hard Star Wars fans might dispute.

What the Force is capable of is even more impressive, judging by the size of my youngest son’s saucer eyes as he explained Darth Vader’s evil death grip with more animation and hand gestures than I was comfortable with.

The conversation had taken on a decidedly dark tone for such an early hour. We never had these chats when the children liked watching Alvin and the Chipmunks or Kung Fu Panda .

My boys may be a bit late join - ing the Star Wars party, especially my nine-year-old, as many of his friends watched the George Lucas’ films several years ago. But, he had nightmares after seeing a somewhat obscure sea creature emerge from the water in one of the Ice Age films at a much younger age, so I’ve censored their viewing ever since.

The 1970s science fiction films were among the gifts from Santa at Christ - mas, and my children are now well informed about the characters, their strengths and weaknesses.

The more recent additions to the series came as a birthday present, but for parents whose youngsters have not yet ven - tured into this epic world, I would caution against Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. It is not for the young or faint-hearted. Even I was disturbed by the sight of Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker lying at the edge of a lava river and catching fire, his horror-filled bloodshot eyes staring at us from the small screen as he burned.

Unlike the original Star Wars trilogy, which were rated U by the British Board of Film Classification, this film from 2005 was given a 12a rating – meaning children under 12 had to be accompanied by an adult if watching it in the cinema.

Unfortunately I hadn’t checked the rating on Episode III. Had I taken the trouble to research why it had received that ranking, or forced myself to sit through it before my children, I would have consigned it to a galaxy far, far away rather than let them see it. Thankfully, but surprisingly, it hasn’t triggered any nightmares – but we won’t be watching it again, for some time at least.

Aside from the fighting, violence and horror, Star Wars has a lot to answer for in our house, including the over enthusiastic lightsaber battle which left a dent in our recently plastered living room wall. Then there’s all the parapahalia that comes with being a fan – the Lego models taking over every surface, the plastic space ships and figures filling up toy cupboards, the large encyclopaedic books, the fancy dress costumes and masks spilling out from a box under the bed. The list goes on.

Then, at bedtime last night, as I went to give my six-year-old a goodnight kiss, he put his hands on both my cheeks, held tight, puckered up and pressed his lips firmly against mine for the longest kiss ever, complete with “mmmm” sound effects, and followed by a lot of giggling. I suspect, for an imaginary second, I was Princess Leia (without the hair do) to his Han Solo – but that’s where I draw the line.

I have no doubt the children have seen other passionate embraces be - fore, but probably not as many times as THAT kiss considering how often the film is on repeat.

To avoid any repetition, I tried to gently explain that wasn’t how to kiss mummy which was met with baffled expressions. It was a funny, if slightly odd moment, and they’re clearly too young and innocent to know there is a difference between the bedtime peck they usually give me as their mum to the longer-lasting kiss they might save for a future sweetheart.

“Save those kisses for when you have a girlfriend – when you’re 30!” I said, but my words were drowned out by their side-splitting laughter.