Yes, here I am yet again with another blog post where I thumb my nose at life’s little unfairnesses, teach my children less than stellar behavior, and generally don’t give a shit. If this offends, leave now.
It’s summertime which means I spend my one measly ‘day off’ a week trying to keep The Co-Defendants entertained and refereed. For some mommies, a good day is making castles from popsicle sticks and macaroni necklaces. For me, it means a day without bloodshed or me losing my schmit. They’ve learned that the words ‘I’m bored’ are a death knell for fun and frolic and result in them doing some sort of unsavory chore like scooping poop, washing dirty underpants (their father’s…hehe) or cleaning ’round the base of the porcelain throne with a toothbrush. Some third world dictator wishes he had me on speed dial.
We’ve done the museum thing, the swimming thing, the bowling thing and my least favorite thing of all…the movie theater thing.
I view kids’ movies one of two ways: 1) as an occasionally pleasant surprise (think Narnia and that hot Ben Barnes…does that sound pervy?) or 2) as a, more often than not, very expensive two-hour nap (think Horton Hears a Who). From the sticky floors (please, God, let that be soda) to getting neck cramps trying not to lean my head back against the stadium seat (please, God, no lice) to the general dirty sweatsock smell of the whole shebang, it’s what I envision hell to be like, only without the flames and eternal damnation.
This assumes I’ve made it past the ticket counter and concession stand without having a massive coronary event.
I don’t mind $4.75 per person to get in the door (hey, it’s the matinée and I’m cheap) if it means getting the aforementioned two hours of sibling tranquility. What I mind is having to sell a kidney so each of us can have a small snack and drink. Movie theaters are the law abiding citizen equivalent of dropping your bar of soap in the prison shower stall.
Here’s where I confess to having smuggled edibles and drinkables in my ginormous handbag. I admit it; I’ve done it. Satisfied? I’ve also threatened The Co-Defendants with posting nude baby shots of them on Facebook if they ask for said snack hidden in my bag while we’re still in line for tickets. When you cast your vote for Mother of the Year, make sure you get my name right…it’s Stephanie Bowen. Thank you.
I’ve had an acquaintance take me to task for basically committing theft and teaching my children to bend the rules and laws of morality to suit their own selfish desires just to save a buck…or, in this case, $28.75.
To her I say ‘Hell yes!’
While a movie theater certainly does not qualify as a government entity, I still say it’s the perfect opportunity to teach the darlings about civil disobedience…and not screwing the little people just so the stars and movie companies can rake in the dough. If I’m gonna get screwed, I’m at least going to enjoy it. It’s ridiculous to spend twice what you paid to get in the door on stale popcorn and watered down drinks. Could we skip the snacks? Of course. However, a movie without snacks is like Disney without Mickey, Fred without Ginger, a nudie bar without topless chicks. Just sayin’.
While the chick in Tone Loc’s song needed fifty dollars to make him holla I can think of much better ways to spend my money. A bookstore comes to mind.
And besides, I’m just not in the mood to bend over for the soap.