Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Nap time with a "twist"

Upon waking up from my Sunday nap I have been privy to tmi (too much information) about what has gone on while I was asleep.

Sundays are our Movie Nights. This began when Grandpa couldn't get out much. We enjoyed a fine dinner each Sunday afternoon, and then watched a movie with Grandpa. Each kid, and adult, took a turn in choosing the movies. Many comments should have been recorded at the watching of these movie choices.

So here I was yesterday evening, minding my own business, asleep in my bed. Mr. B was intending on waking me for the movie, but "forgot"; likely story.

As I awaken, I hear the pleasant sounds of laughing and talking. I decided to join the fun. Here is what I heard:

"Wow, probably shouldn't tell your mom about that one." (This is B, thinking I can't hear them.)

"What one?" I say.

G-13, "Dad, you're in trouble." (The smirk on G's face says it all, this is going to be fun.)

"Bad movie choice."

Me, ignoring that comment, knowing that G and Mr. B have left me sleeping WAY too long, I decide to bring up the Standards Night (which the both of them should have been attending at the Stake Center an hour ago, hence dad suppose to wake me up, hence, trouble for the pair of them.)

Mr. B, "Oh crap, I totally forgot about that."

G, "I didn't, I remembered at 645, but since mom was still asleep I thought we could sacrifice going."

B and G "We should probably leave mom's nap out of this one." (Good idea).

"So, tell me about the movie."

Mr. B: "Not the best of choices."

G ratting on his dad, "Well it is PG-13, parents STRONGLY cautioned."

Mr. B "Yeah, I probably should have noticed that."

(Ya think.)

Mr. B, "I thought this was the Oliver Twist Musical, it wasn't."
He is thinking I will leave it at that.

Me: "How many night terrors should we expect tonight."

Mr. B: " A few, and G will probably want to sleep upstairs on the couch."

Me: "How bad was it?"

Mr. B, still avoiding any real details: "We sang a lot of Hymns, while I fast forwarded through some parts."

Me: "Was Adam still here?" (Let me introduce Adam: 9 years old, taking the missionary discussions in our home, going to be baptized this Saturday, came over to have some solace on a Sunday afternoon, Adam.)

Mr. B: "Yeah, he should be fine. But J-AGE 7 was a bit frustrated." (J frequently reminds his father and me that we are the parents, PG means parents should know better, and PG 13 means he is not old enough, and we should really know better, i.e. the time we wanted to watch Transformers, and he was huddled under a blanket crying. Then not huddled under a blanket screaming at us, "you are supposed to be responsible for me. This is not an appropriate movie for a 6 year old. PG means parents are suppose to know better. What is wrong with you." Which, being the kind mom I am, I took him to another television and watched Monsters Inc. Really dad, what is wrong with you?)

G-13 trying to interject here, and dad saying, "G, you should probably not say anything right now, especially if it has anything to do with certain parts of the movie."

G persisting in his dad's defense: "What about all the movies mom has made me watch. Like the year at the cabin when she only brought three movies, Beaches, Steele Magnolias, and Fried Green Apples." (..tomatoes:)) "The mom's all die in those movies, what was she thinking, huh, Dad."

Dad: "G, that's not going to work with mom, I think we should stop talking."

Me: "HOW MANY NIGHT TERRORS ARE WE TALKING ABOUT?"

Mr. B, "Well, I had the kids close their eyes, we really did sing some great Hymns. It wasn't that bad."

Okay, so isn't Oliver Twist a classic. That was his entire defense. He lost.
I will be picking the next few movies.
Anybody want to watch Dumbo.

No comments:

on marriage

'Will you, um, marry me?' I haven't seen you in weeks! You don't look happy or excited about the prospect of our marriage! You're asking me to give up my - my freedom, my joie de vivre for an institution that fails as often as it succeeds? And why should I marry you anyway? I mean, why do you wanna marry me? Besides some bourgeois desire to fulfill an ideal that society embeds in us from an early age to promote a consumer capitalist agenda?