We're going to the movies this weekend.
Seeing how I am over forty you'd think I'd be going to see Clint Eastwood's chilling child-swap drama, Changeling. It got decent reviews in my town's newspaper.
But I'm not.
I can't because I'm a wimp. Any story about losing a child makes me break out in hives.
Much as I sometimes want to give my kids away, the whole idea of them going missing makes me want to curl up into a little ball of jelly in the corner somewhere. Yep, can't even think about it.
So, like the
stupid good Mom of an eight year old that I am, we've got tickets instead to see High School Musical 3. Yep, we got tickets.
Now, can someone tell me what that's all about? It's a kid's movie for gosh darn sake and I needed to get tickets? The only way I can explain it is that us going, us as in a family, has made my youngest daughter VERY happy.
So, I'm taking in the feel good movie this Sunday and I'll probably be walking out of the theater singing Disney songs and cursing the amount of Disney
crap stuff my daughter will want with this movie's logo attached to it for Christmas.
Sigh. I need to toughen up.