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Monday, April 09, 2007

Movie

Today the boys and I went to Kohl's to look at some boys suits on the recommendation of a friend. Sure enough, for a little over $8 I was able to get OS a suit that consisted of a shirt, clip-on-tie, pants and a vest. Don't you just love when things go on clearance? Now he has his choice of suits just in case the tuxedo doesn't work out for my BIL's wedding next month (we also have a suit we borrowed from a friend, but that's a little on the snug side.) Needless to say, OS is not a big fan of this suit. As we were leaving the mall, we drove past the movie theatre. I have been promising OS that we could see Firehouse Dog. Yes, I know it's PG, but I figure compared to some of the more interesting sexual innuendos in the Disney movies that are only rated G, a few jokes about farts wouldn't hurt him.

Sure enough, there were a few farting jokes (that actually were pretty funny) and some scenes with a fire. If I had known that ahead of time, I might have reconsidered taking him due to my own childhood fear about fire, but OS did not seem to bothered by it. He was scared for about 2 seconds and then seemed okay. I remember seeing Bambi when I was just a little bit older. Talk about a disturbing movie with fire. The other people seeing the movie also had kids around his age.

And where was YS all this time? Happily sitting on my lap. Yes, OS was just about 3 when he saw his first movie, but as usual YS gets to do things much much earlier because he's just along for the ride. He seemed to enjoy the movie too, although I think once he actually starts moving, it will be a couple of years before he'll sit still for a movie again. All was going fine until about 20 minutes before the movie ended. Simultaneously I felt something wet and hot on my leg and OS dropped his sippy cup on the floor. One concept that OS has not mastered about the movie experience is the need for silence. At full volume he announced that he wanted the lights to be turned on so he could look for his cup. Since his demands were not met, he then proceeded to whine, also at a loud volume, when he could not find his cup under the seat. After a lot of furious whispering on my part and more whining on his part, things culminated when I told OS that we would have to leave if he didn't sit down. We would find the cup later. This is all while I was sniffing the baby and my jeans because based on last week, I had a fear that the hot liquid on my leg was diarrhea. Fortunately, it was just a very wet diaper. Unfortunately, YS decided that this would be a good time for him to provide commentary on the movie, and he proceeded to start up the baby gurgle (mamamama.....mamamamama.....) while I tried to hush him with a pacifier, my keys and finally the straw to my drink (what he had wanted throughout the whole movie). By that point he had his hands on it so many times I was done with it anyways.

After what seemed like two decades, the movie ended and I was able to find the rogue sippy cup and everything else that we had dropped on the floor. OS also made sure that my ratty old dish towel that he had on his head, was arranged to his satisfaction. OS tried to make a case for seeing the movie again. I told him he could take it up with the Big Giraffe. YS was changed into a new diaper and a new outfit and then we went home where I made a half hearted attempted at dinner, and then collapsed on the couch. Who knew that sitting on my butt and watching a movie for 111 minutes could be that tiring? Oh, wait...did I mention that I had the insane idea to see it with two kids?

A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Taking children to the movie is a job for your partner / spouse.

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Name:Alex Elliot
Home:MA, United States
About Me:Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
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For those of us who didn't get an instruction manual with our babies and for whom parenting hasn't always gone as planned. On a more serious note this blog is about supporting a woman's ability to make her own choices about parenting including the choice, for whatever reason, to bottle feed her babies formula.

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