“Lots of people don’t have nicknames. I don’t have a nickname.”
“Yes you do! Your nickname is Cathy.”
“What do you think my real name is?”
“Mommy.”

I never stopped loving and attending midnight movies. There’s a palpable enthusiasm in midnight movie audiences. You don’t take an unwilling date or spouse to a midnight movie. The audience is filled with people who are eagerly anticipating the movie. Every preview gets enthusiastic cheers and applause. Preview for a movie that should have been called “Geezers with Guns 2″? Clapping and three syllable “Yeah!” Preview that makes the Alien movies seem cheerful? Oohs and ahhs. Preview for a comic book movie? People cheer and make happy noises that would make Meg Ryan’s Sally in a restaurant seem timid.

The mood in the audience is so contagious that reserved and quiet people find themselves laughing at the audience comments and applauding when they would normally have smiled and nodded. Everyone’s brain Fandangos tickets for the previewed movies. At that moment in time, everything is wonderful.

I try to act my age and wait to see movies during matinee hours, but sometimes… I have to stay up past my bedtime and join the party. I don’t have the free time to sit thru a lengthy movie marathon like Thursday’s Marvel Marathon. While Aspie Caveman had the desire and interest, he lacked the transportation. Being the designated taxi driver was enough of a nudge to indulge and join the midnight Avengers screening.

It. Was. Perfect. Instead of throwing the 3D at the audience, Avengers used the 3D to pull the audience into the screen. The dialogue was clever and witty instead of melodramatic. Violence was carefully CGI’d to keep the comic book feel. The cast was enormous, yet carefully balanced. Words and images that we remember reading on long family car trips or by flashlight past bedtime, came to life even better than they were ever imagined.

We have all been trained to remain seated during credits for the reward of an extra scene. Avengers treats everyone who sits beyond that scene. After so many additional credits roll that the audience posted tweets, checked Facebook, scrolled their feed and texted their babysitters, the bonus was something completely different that had every nerd who waited, smiling as they left the theater.

Driving home at three in the morning, I found myself staring at the familiar streets with the eyes of a stranger. “Is this my street?” Wisps of fog floated randomly and at that moment, I declared my super power to be fog absorption. I was saving the other drivers from visual distractions even though it caused me brain fog. I became over-tired, brain cloud mom! I came home hyped up from the movie and stared at the television. I had brilliant insights on gender roles in Marvel comics that I didn’t write down. I figured out Black Widow’s super power and mentally compiled a list of others with the power until I decided it was more evil than super. At four a.m., I decided my brain was too active for sleep and I should start my day. The early morning would make me super productive just as soon as I stood up and began moving. I blinked and it was six hours later. Brain Cloud causes blinking to slow way, way down.

After my hibernation, I started to wonder how much of the midnight experience was influencing my praise for Avengers. I generously offered to accompany the teen and spouse who were unable to attend the first screening. Selfishness may be a temporary side effect of Brain Cloud.

After the second screening, I tried to Amazon pre-order the just opened Avengers. It really is that good.

It began with a ringing phone, except that it was a melody instead of a ring, but everyone already knows that part of the story. The caller ID on the phone shined brightly. “Nurse Mary”

Sweet, wonderful Nurse Mary spoke in her soothing voice as she explained the thirty minute nosebleed, broken glasses, and kickball incident. It was clear that there was no immediate danger, but a need for a precautious checkup and an afternoon of cartoons on the couch. Instead of scooping up the injured 9-y-o, I asked if TCAPs were finished for the day. I hate myself for being prepared to force a child in need of snuggles to sit with a scan sheet for another hour, but that is where we are with standardized testing right now. Pass TCAPs or fail a grade is a reality.

Luckily, the TCAP testing was completed for the day and an unusually quick visit to the pede eliminated any worries about Voldemort nose syndrome. The expensive, specialized glasses for “weak eyes” absorbed most of the kick faceball’s impact. Except for a week or so of very odd bruising, Amy is going to be fine.

The cat will not be fine. The cat is no more. She has ceased to be. She has shuffled off this mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible.

Aspie Caveman was born a cat whisperer. Feral cats purr in his lap. House-cats are magnetically attracted to him. All cats absorb the excess stimulation that make Aspie Caveman’s senses sting and burn. While his affection for animals is not limited to cats, cats are the peak of the Aspie Caveman hierarchy.

Aspie Caveman sat and pet the cat as she breathed her last breath.

Everyone cried.

So, we had a cat funeral. There was brush to clear and dirt to dig. Tired and dirty, we stood in the rain and created closure. A kazoo hummed taps and we stared at the cardboard box in the hole.

Doug: “Evan, do you want to say something?”
Evan: “Yes. She’s gonna come back as a zombie cat.”

Your significant other might claim that they will always allow you to rub your cold feet against their warm skin. Don’t be fooled. There will come a day when the slightest touch of your frigid toes causes the normal foot temperature person to coil up as far away from you as possible in the limited space of your shared bed.

Last week, I pulled my I-must-not-have-lifted-with-my-knees heating pad out and put it under my feet. Several hours later, I awoke in the same ‘two pillows propping up my head for an hour of tv watching’ position that I was in when I slipped the heating pad under my feet. Warm feet are the magical sleep switch that I have been searching for my entire life.

I’m still going to put my cold feet on Doug’s warm skin when he dozes off mid-conversation. That never stops being funny.

This morning, our bananas are:
__ greener than grass
__ almost ripe
__ ready to eat
__ ready for cooking
__ bruised by wandering jugglers

Normally, the adults stand behind children and watch exhibits while they also watch children. After an unreasonably long time staring at the children, staring at the exhibit, we squeezed toward the glass to better understand the attraction to this particular exhibit.

The children’s eyes and minds were focused on the floor of the giant Aquarium.

“There’s a phone IN the fish tank.” The children came up with an endless array of scenarios that could have led to a phone’s demise in the fishy waters. They proposed phone recovery options that ranged from ridiculous to impossible. “But what if they trained the otters to fetch?” It’s been more than a week since our visit to the Aquarium and the children are STILL making up stories and asking questions about a cell phone that was dropped in the tank. If the phone wasn’t toxic to wildlife, I would suggest that the Aquarium’s version of “Where’s Waldo” be “Where’s the broken phone?” Just ask the otters move the phone to different exhibit windows every week. The children believe the otters will do it.