Just going to take the birthday kids out for a movie and pizza with a friend.
Just going to do that.
No biggie, buy some tickets, get some seats, eat some popcorn, watch a good movie....
No biggie, right?
Here's the thing. I heard Screen 1. I had tickets that said Screen 1. Screen 1 was showing the PG rated Annie. That was the plan.
What my old eyes saw over that door was 1......yes.....1. Not 7. Heavens no.
So enter my 2 tween girls, my 2 11 year old boy companions, and the 5 year old boyfriend that spits on me whilst he speaks, and is solidly glued to my hip at all times.
We are arriving right as the movie is supposed to start, so I'm a bit dismayed that the previews have already started......
and more dismayed that the theater is at capacity, and we will have to sit in the front row.
As we sit down, and I am trying to get the 5 year old's icee "drink ready", I hear a word that should NOT be in a movie preview at a PG movie.
I look up to the screen just in time for a naked man to kiss an equally naked lady's toe, then inject drugs into her vein in her foot. And instead of getting their popcorns and drink "Movie Ready", the 5 children in-my-care have their pure, untainted eyes glued to the giant screen in front of them.
I.AM.HORRIFIED. I glance over to my neighbor and urgently whisper, "IS THIS ANNIE?", to which he spits out his popcorn and spews pop out his nose and laughingly whispers back, 'UHM, NO."
He didn't have to spew pop out his nose... I got it.
About that time, companion of my 11 year old has abandoned his seat and is rushing to the door. I grab his arm and say, "Get your stuff, we are out of here".
I think he was going to call his mom on his brand new smart phone and rat me out.
But no. As we head toward the correct theater, all of us speechless from the trauma I have inflicted on them, and me, head swimming thinking of all the therapy I'm going to have to pay for 1...2..3...4..5 children and MYSELF..... the companion adds, "I'm NEVER telling my mom what just happened".
I try to salvage the "party" and in we trot to Annie. Annie? Really? Foster care, mean foster parent, system issues, no hope for Annie? Have I lost my ever loving senses?
Therapy for 1...2...3... kids, please.
When it was over, and I was crawling to the car....Steven offered, "That was the best movie, ever, Lolly".
Stinkin' little liar.
Pizza followed, and the Downs Christmas lights in Norman, and we sang entirely too loud in the car, and I promised them that I would take them to a better R rated movie next time.
All in all, a super successful day.
It ain't easy being me.