Don’t Throw Eggs
We finally went to see The Hobbit today. We’ve been trying to go for a couple of week now, but between a snow storm and a sick babysitter it hasn’t happened. I didn’t think it was going to happen today either, because the babysitter was late. I’m glad I told her to be here 30 minutes before the show started. She was 15 minutes late (she got lost), so we got to the theater just in time. I was shocked at how crowded it was. I was not shocked to see small children in the audience. I should have been, but that shock has long since worn off. Do people not even care if their young children are terrified and suffer from nightmares? Apparently not. There are always young children at inappropriate movies.
Many of you know that I am a major fantasy fan, but my little dirty not-so-secret is that I don’t care for JRR Tolkien. I need action, not 100 pages of singing a song about a tree. I did enjoy the LOTR movies, but this movie? Ugh. I was squirmy and wiggly and just wanted to be home, reading Flame of Sevenwaters, seeing if all my predictions about the plot were correct (almost all of them were, of course). I do love me some Juliet Marillier.
There were a couple of interesting movie previews. There was a Tom Cruise sci-fi movie that looked pretty good–Oblivion. I haven’t seen a Tom Cruise movie since he went crazy and was jumping around on Oprah’s couch. Maybe the time for my boycott has passed, especially since I can’t really remember why I was so dead set against him. Something to do with Scientology, I think. He must have got me good and riled, but that was ten years ago.
Maybe I’ll boycott the Stephanie Meyer movie instead. Is it a boycott when it’s something you wouldn’t want to watch anyway? Is there a rule that actresses in a Stephanie Meyer movie must look completely lifeless?
Our MOMS Club just started a babysitting co-op, so maybe we can start going to more movies. Who can afford a movie and a sitter? And really, what kind of date is a movie? You can’t even talk. I guess if it was a really bad movie you could make out. But who wants to pay for that? I like the idea of the babysitting co-op in theory, but in practice I don’t really want to babysit anyone’s kids. Except I already occasionally babysit several of the children in the co-op, so it will be nice to have some official recompense I suppose. Currently we just trade in a topsy-turvy fashion when we have medical appointments.
I guess I better wrap up this totally disjointed entry and take Erik up to bed. I hate our bedtime routine. He’s a seven year old boy. He doesn’t want to go to sleep. He wants to play hide and seek, jump all over me, hide under the blankets, hold me down when it is time to leave. It can never be a simple “read, kiss, bye bye.” I try to remind myself that I am his mother even when I am tired. It is not fair to be cranky about him being him and doing what is fun for a seven year old. But man. I sure could be cranky (and often am). Ugh.