Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Like I remember cartoons that completely revolved around how one or more characters refused to die all the time. For example, Tom & Jerry or The Roadrunner & Coyote cartoons.
I grew up making fun of my mom because it seemed like EVERY movie we watched made her cry. Sometimes I would roll my eyes and leave the room.
But then like, Disney characters started dying all over the place.
Maybe it was always that way & I just never noticed.
I was trying to prove to my dad that the movie UP isn't really for kids and started weeping 5 minutes in.
It gets me everytime.
I worry that I'm becoming my mother.
Next thing you know I'll be wearing lime green sweat pants to Wal-Mart and acting senile at restaurants.
True Story: my mom LOVES this one Italian restaurant in my home town & everytime I visit she wants to go there. She always, always, always orders a calzone.
The last time we went, she spent 10 minutes bugging our waitress about what exactly comes in the calzone.
The waitress is all, "Eez sauce and hone toppeeng. And eextra toppeengs are for a dollarrr." (She's got a heavy Italian accent. That might actually be all the English she knows.)
& my mom's like, "so it doesn't come with cheese? Okay then I'd like the soup. What kind do you have?"
& the waitress is like, "ehh soup? tonight eez squashes."
& my mom's like, "Oh I don't want squash soup. Let me get the calzone. But I don't just want sauce & a topping if there's no cheese. No, no. Let me get a cup of soup. I really don't like squash soup."
& our poor waitress is standing there all confused & I was like, "Mom, we've been coming here for over 8 years and you ALWAYS get the calzone. You know it comes with cheese. Stop being crazy & just order a pepperoni calzone."
That was a long story within a story.
So like awhile back, Mr. Flintstone & I went to see Toy Story 3.
Needless to say, I was freaking out the four year old kid sitting next to me as I sobbed into my pop corn.
Why was I crying into the pop corn?
Because I didn't want Mr. Flintstone to know I was losing my mind.
So I came out of the theatre with a greasy, salty face, puffy eyes & a runny nose & Mr. Flintstone is trying not to look directly at me so that neither of us have to acknowledge how much of a dork I am & he's like,
"Did you like the movie?"
& I'm like, "*sniffle, sniffle* It was okay."