We took the family to the drive-in theater last night. I know, it sounds magical doesn’t it? It was for the first hour and a half. We played on the swing set below the giant screen. Then, the family packed into the back of our van and devoured mounds of junk food. We ate French fries, nachos, popcorn and candy. (I will be the one sporting the polyester elastic pants today.) I’m sure a good mother would bring fruit and granola bars. I am not one of them. Anyway, about an hour into the movie my son got bored and decided he wanted to leave. We snuggled up and I assured him it wouldn’t be much longer. However, a movie that could have been told in 30 minutes lasted nearly 3 hours.
I am white trash enough to bring my 2-year-old and 12-year-old to the same flick. (Not as trashy as the mom in the coup next to us with the tattoo “Lover” & “Girl” on her breasts.) I did bring cartoons for my daughter to watch and an Ipod. By hour two not even Apple could make her happy. Perhaps, had I done a better job of family planning I wouldn’t be in this predicament. However, with your youngest going through the terrible twos and oldest in his terrible Tweens a trip to the drive-in becomes a chore. I began the night as the fun adventurous mom. By night’s end I was the bitch that made everyone leave before the climatic ending. I am sure the other movie goers applauded as I drove my screaming toddler away. My oldest already saw the movie. My husband was the one whining. After listening to my daughter scream for 30 minutes I was not in the mood.”He saves the day,” I said. “The End.”