When scrolling the guide to choose something to watch, there are a few movies that always make me stop scrolling and start watching. They are movies that I can quote verbatim. They aren’t necessarily considered “good” movies, but I love them. When Doug has the remote, he stops on them just because he knows I’ll twitch if he scrolls past them. That and he’s a good guy.
Movies I can’t stop watching (in no particular order):
Fifth Element (I know it looks like a genre theme, but…)
Clue (now it seems like it’s all dated movies, but…)
Secret Life of Walter Mitty
I have no idea why these movies trigger my comfort zone, but they seriously do.
She: “I’m exhausted. I’m emotionally low and I had to people for like seven and a half hours today.”
He: “Can I get you a therapist?”
You might be old and boring if you have a lengthy discussion about costs and leftovers, before deciding on new ingredients to include in the family’s weekly taco night.
Watching Flash season finale:
“I knew that was who was wearing the metal mask!”
“This is perfect!”
“Nooooo! Barry ruined it.”
Watching Castle series finale:
“Are they dead?”
“No, but that would make more sense than this.”
Watching Gotham season finale:
“I know I shouldn’t, but I love this show.”
“Best. Villains. Ever.”
Watching the first episode of Preacher:
“I need more.”
Comic book television is the best television.
Two and a half weeks remain until we say goodbye to the elementary school that has been a huge part of our lives for 15 years. Fifteen years of the same teachers, staff and classmates. Fifteen years of clubs and activities. Fifteen years of homework and tests and projects. All of these things exist in middle and high school, but not in the same form that they take in elementary school. Elementary school is leprechaun traps and play dates. You don’t get calls from the school nurse for skinned knees after you leave elementary school.
I need to do something significant to recognize 15 years in this school. Not a goodbye. We’ve had too much goodbye this year. This needs to be a happy moment of transition awareness. What’s the elementary graduation version of a major award?
She: “What station are you playing now?”
He: “One of the Amazon Prime country stations.”
She: “The Outlaws are not country. They’re Southern Rock.”
He: “It’s a country station.”
She: “They are wrong.”
She: “I think we had a raccoon or skunk in the yard last night.”
He: “Definitely not dog or cat.”
She: “Or deer or rabbit.”
Child: “What’s everyone staring at?”
He: “What’s wrong?”
She: “We just saw something on this tv show that is really important in a book and I can’t discuss it with you.”
He: “What book?”
She: “I can’t tell you. You’ll be expecting it if I do that. You have to come across it naturally.”
He: “Ummm, yes dear.”
She: “Read books faster!”
Nothing but high brow philosophy and world problem solving discussions over here.
The youngest child is wavering on the precipice between childhood and adolescence. If you stare at him long enough, you can see him growing and changing. I don’t want want to hold him back or push him forward. I want to memorize every single detail of this moment in time. So, when he is operating in full childhood mode, I try to hold my breath and let it be what it is.
Short showers are starting to replace his lengthy baths with a tub full of plastic toys. Every so often, he spends an hour in the bath, mixing all of the soaps and shampoos in toy chemistry tubes. The entire bathroom floor becomes a wading pool from the splashing and splattering of his test tube creations. It’s all fuel for the dangerously oversentimental phase that I have accidentally fallen into recently.
“Wait! Don’t use Mommy’s hair conditioner for your science experiments.”
“It’s expensive old lady stuff.”
Maybe I’m not too far gone yet.
“Why isn’t ensemble participating in competitions this year?”
“Why aren’t Fifth and Eighth grades visiting their new schools this year?”
“Why did Dr. Seuss Week get rescheduled?”
“He doesn’t qualify for reading intervention, but he needs extra help that I can’t give because of teaching time lost to testing.”
Testing != Teaching
If the upstairs water dish is empty, then…
elderly dog will use her nose to repeatedly slam the toilet seat until we fill the water dish,
birdbrain dog will lick the empty water dish until we fill the water dish,
Gimli the cat will lick the walls of the bathtub until we fill the water dish
and the two orange cats will go downstairs to drink from one of the other two water bowls.