Monday, October 19, 2009

Where the Wild Things Are


You know you're getting old when...You totally yell at some teeny boppers for hot-boxing (smoking pot in their car and rolling up the windows to double the high) their car next to my mini-van (ugh, the mini-van, a painful subject to discuss, so we'll save this for another post) at the drive-in movies.

Let me first preface that we as a family LOVE the drive-in movies. It's cheap, it's easy and everyone has fun. We have never had a bad enough experience to where we would not come back. Sure on occasion a kid melts down, but then they get over it and the movie night goes on. There's usually a fair amount of kids out sitting in folding chairs or laying in the back of their cars, which allows for any tantrum or outburst to just blend in with the other commotion.

We went on Saturday to watch the new movie, "Where the Wild Things Are" which was a total butchering of the book, but it was still fun just hanging out as a family. The baby slept through most of the movie, except to wake up and feed. My little boy got bored with the movie (as did most of us) and decided to go to sleep. My oldest daughter giggled at the funny monsters and cuddled up between my husband and I and loved as if she were an only child.

First it was the hard pistachio shells being thrown out of the car window in front of us - "Clink, clink-clink, clink," that was annoying but it comes with the territory. Then the cigarette smoke, which I'm not thrilled about, but it happens. Mind you, this is the same car for each of these annoyances. I could get past all of them until a big plume of pot smoke hit my husband, my daughter and myself in the face. My daughter pinched her nose and looked at me. "Mommy, what is that stinky smell?" I looked at my husband "That's it" I said. I hopped out of the back of my car and walked up to the hot-box car. My heart was pounding. I can't remember the last time I got in a fight, then thought "hell, I have 3 kids. I can do this." "Knock-knock" I tapped the window. "Yeah" said a startled teenager, joint in hand. In my mom voice I said "When my 6 year old daughter asks me what that smell is, I don't want to have to explain it to her. I'd appreciate it if you could stop. You're at a kids movie - NOT cool." "Alright" was all her doe-eyed face could muster up. Needless to say, the smoke stopped. Mission accomplished.

I was a lot of things as a teenager, but I don't ever remember being that stupid or inconsiderate. I guess I could have been (and I'm just blocking it out). There's knowing you need to be responsible, then there's really knowing you are responsible. I knew that night I had grown up. I traded in my Chevy Tahoe for a stupid mini-van (dagger in my heart, lungs shriveling) for crying out loud! The more I thought about it, the more I felt like a killjoy, but seriously who wants to do the drug talk with their 6 year old? I know I didn't. I'll hold out for another few years if I have any say over it.

The one good thing is that I know I'll step up to the plate for my kids. I always thought I would, but now I know. We'll go back to the drive-in movies and we'll have a great time. Maybe next time we'll even bring beer for the kids...just kidding!


No comments:

Post a Comment