At the movies.

We took untitledson to the movie “Cars” this weekend. Now I know what rated G really means — “God Damned Happy to be Getting Out the House.” At first, I was excited enough just to be at the movie theater without having to pay a babysitter. But as we walked by all the other options, I wondered if untitledson would notice if we ducked in to see “The Da Vinci Code” instead. “See, there’s a car, honey! I told you we’d see cars!”

Much to his credit, untitledson was pretty attentive during the movie. But then again, how could he NOT be. Talking cars, spinning wheels, a farting tow truck — it was pretty much porn for three year-old boys. The fact that grown men (just going off the names I saw in the credits here) could so easily tap into the minds of little boys proves my point — they never actually grow up at all. They just get hairier and hornier and more spoiled. I could almost hear untitledson’s arteries harden like as he took his first bite of movie theater popcorn. After a few chews, he gave me this look, as if thinking, “Why you been holdin’ out on me, beotch? Hard to attract dem ho’s when I’m forced to eat those game-killing Teddy Grahams. This here is what I’m talkin’ bout. Now pass the salt.”

He went to the bathroom three times, which might have something to do with the fact that he was taking pulls every two minutes of off untitledhusband’s bladder buster of soda. Yes, I know — many three year-olds slug Coke and Pop Rocks for breakfast. But we like to keep such things from him as much as possible. I don’t want him to turn out like me, you see. Perhaps I cannot control that, but I’m doing my best to cultivate his tastes for tofu and root vegetables, and educate him about the perils of junk food (it’s a “once-in-a-while food, not an everyday food”). I feel rather good about the fact that I can count on one hand the number of times he has eaten fast food. The number of times he’s seen me eat fast food, that’s another thing (KIDDING, people). Still, I never tire of hearing him ask, “What’s in your MOUF?” “Raisins, honey. Raisins.”

4 thoughts on “At the movies.”

  1. Yep, you’re right…., they never grow up. My husband actually wants to see “Cars”!!! He’s almost 50 and hates cartoons (but insists this is not a cartoon or animation… what, he thinks there is an alternate universe where cars really speak?!?!?) He never wants to go to the theater either but apparently there’s some cool names ‘acting’ in this film. Weird, truly weird.

    Of course I want to see it…, I’m still a kid after all.

  2. Your site always makes me laugh. I almost peed when I read the part about your son eating popcorn. How do you write shit like that without laughing so hard you break wind?

  3. I have 4 kids–all boys–ages 12, 16, 17, 52. Technically the 52 year old is my husband but since they are all about the same age mentally I have living proof that men stop maturing by age 17. God, how I yearn for a girls only weekend where not one sole will get hysterical over the best (most gut rotting) fart.

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