Just Another Day at the Movies

Allow me to set the stage.

I woke up this morning with a sore throat that to be fair, I'd been babying for a few days prior.

Against my better judgement, I decided that it might be best if the kids and I lay low and try to do something that required minimal energy output.

Boom.  That's when I checked Facebook and discovered that our neighborhood theater was hosting a free family movie morning.  The price of admission was canned food items for a local not for profit and the ability to get there at least 30 minutes prior to the movie showing time.

"African Cats" was the flick.  Beautiful.  A little popcorn, little Starburst, big fat Dr. Pepper for mama and we're in business.

Until.  This horrid lady and her crazy daughter sat down beside me and she begins with, "Do you know if there's a special on concessions today?"  "Um, no...I've never done this before, " I retort as I visibly pump my littles full of popcorn, soda, candy and previews.  "Oh, well, you should have waited.  They have dollar pop and popcorn days on Tuesdays. You could have saved some money."

And then, "Did you know that the lions kill animals in this movie?  I see that you have little ones."

Da Fuck??  Get off my back, bee-yatch or I'll infect you with my throat bug. 

And then, "Mama, I pooped," out of my two-year old toddler.  Holy Hell...in a rush to get out of the house, I forgot to bring a diaper.  Shit balls.

Just then, like an angel from Heaven, one of my besties shows up with her girlie and I beg her to sit beside me and shield me from Library Know-it-All while I run to the concessions and the potty with my shitty smelling daughter.

"You're gonna have to tell me when you need to go potty," I say holding her ass over the far too big toilet bowl, "Because mama doesn't have any fresh under panties or diapers."  "Okay, mama," says Claire with a mischievous look that says your moments are numbered and I'm planning to shit Reeses Pieces all over your shorts.

And then the flick starts.  So far so good.  The killing is manageable.  No poop in my lap.  My two-year old is busying herself with candy.  I'm living the dream.

And then she gets up and starts bugging the people sitting in front of us and threatening her brother for his Sour Patch Kids with a scream as if to say, "Give me the candy, bitch or I'll blow up the place with my shrieking."  And I beg him...give her the freaking candy!!! He reluctantly relents.

Finally, she yells, "Bathroom...I've got to go potty."  And I jump up to go and discover that she only goes a dribble.  We do this dog and pony show another time and then finally, I say, screw this.  I'm waiting with you out in the lobby until this Savannah, Lion Pride shit is done.

Good Lord....she ran into the opening day showing of "Despicable Me," tried to rip the cardboard advertisement for the "Smurfs," and snuck under the bathroom stall door scaring yet another patron.

When it was finally over, I pulled them into the car and thought about screaming but just decided that I would laugh instead and then, I screamed for good measure.  My throat is more on fire...but at least no one died.

Just another day at the movies.