Alas, almost all movie trips are for the wee Smart A$$ children. Alas, like the savvy mommy I am, I used to assign the seemingly craptacular ones to Mr.T and his viewing pleasure of trips sans mom.
Times they are a changing and Mr.T caught on, and now movies are a whole family affair, which is fine because now my kids are old enough to understand that even if Pixar makes it-if it involved toilets, sewage or snakes-mama won't partake.
This is where my Public Serve Announcement takes place:
Moms! If you have been so consumed in Twitter feeds and Huffington Post involving 'Lindsay Lohan! Will She or Won't She Check Into Rehab!' I have news for you: Avatar The Last Airbender is your return to childbirth and all forms of torture lasting 1.5 hours. While spending a Friday evening sans Lil V, Missy B's date night was birthed. Without the painful cramping from anyone, much to my annoyance. Dinner at 5 Guys, followed by a movie of her choice. In which Mr.T and I shelf our better parenting skills for better manipulation skills. This was displayed in our efforts to talk our 10 year old into seeing Grown Ups, a PG13 movie over Airbender, a repeated pelvic exams are more entertaining rated movie.
I can't say anymore on the subject, it is bringing back painful back spasms remembering that I folded myself in the theater seat attempting to catch a late evening coma. Horrible-is an understatement. Boring-is watching paint dry. Painful-is childbirth which equal this movie. It was absolutely horrendous. Elmers Glue comes with better warnings than this movie did.
There you have it parents and non parents reading. You're welcome.
*though I threw out and awful lot of name brands, let me assure you, nobody sponsored this post. Though I would like to request that the Hanover Township Theater and/or M.Night Shayamalan refund me $45.
