Bad Parenting, Bad Personing.

I have been given a little gift from Mother Nature since we last spoke and that gift is a relapse into fall weather. Sunlight! No snow! Mid-30’s temperatures! The thing that makes me happiest is that the roads have been cleared and normal for days now. I will cherish each moment I can drive normally because I know the next snow will be the one that settles until Spring. Even if it were to stop snowing we will eventually not have enough daylight per day to melt the roads. Alaska is funny that way.

How did the snow-driving go? Fine, I guess. If you are me. If you are the people forced to drive behind me then it is an entirely different story. The teacher one door down from me, with whom I share a computer cart, drops his son off at the same childcare facility that I do each morning. We always cross paths there and then follow each other until he turns off to drop off a different kid at a different place. He had the misfortune of getting behind me on the first real snow-driving day. I went out of my way to go down to his room and apologize for going so slowly all the way to work. I had hoped he would say that I had been driving a fine speed for the conditions. He did not. He said that he wasn’t worried about it and that I would get used to it eventually. I nodded and everything, but you know what? NO, I WON’T! I will drive like this on these roads forever. I told him to always go ahead of me from now on. That plan seems to be working okay so far.

On an entirely different note, Sergio and I try to read a few books together each year. We read American Pastoral this summer while I was in Arkansas and he was in Bethel. We were not fans. The most recent book we picked up together was The Martian. We both really enjoyed that book, though it took me a bit longer to stumble through the science talk. So I rushed to finish Friday night so we could go see it on Saturday. We didn’t go until Sunday and true to our not all that stellar parenting skills we did not line up a babysitter. We just sort of went when the time worked out. This means that our six year old also attended The Martian 3D with us. I can’t gauge if this is weird or not. I went with my Dad to watch Dances With Wolves in the theater at the age of eight. That movie had a lot of subtitles for an eight year old, among other things, which I dutifully covered my eyes during. So, yeah. I don’t know when kids should and shouldn’t go to a movie. This was our first grownup movie we trusted her to try. Before this we took her to some Marvel stuff and she did well. We had no idea how she would feel about this movie except to know she enjoys 3D. She loved it. A 3D movie about space? Sign her up! She followed the story, had the appropriate emotions at the appropriate spots, and asked if we could buy it when it came out on DVD. SUCCESS! I tried to think later if there was anything she shouldn’t have seen or heard. Just the F-bomb a few times. I hate to break it to you guys, but…she’s heard it. A lot. If she hadn’t heard it before the snow driving (she had, all the time), she certainly heard it on repeat during those few days. I’ve never argued we are good parents.

Also, if you are going to take a small kidlet to see this movie I should warn that the previews are much less kid friendly. There was some eye coverage during a horror preview. Just to prevent nightmares later on.

Speaking of movies, I am about to commit something to this blog that I can’t take back. It’s nearly blasphemous but I can’t hold it back.

I. Don’t. Enjoy. Star. Wars.

I know. That’s bad. Let me be clear, I don’t actively hate it or anything. It’s just that I can’t get into it and I never could. As a kid I would watch movies on repeat. Not just kids movies. Anything I liked at all. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Ghostbusters, Real Genius, Cinderella, Indiana Jones, Far and Away, The Sound of Music, Sixteen Candles. You name it. Let me redirect you back to a few paragraphs ago when I admitted to CHOOSING to go see Dances With Wolves at the very mature age of eight. My point is, I like movies. I watched the first (real first) SW when I was about 10. It was okay. I never watched it again. I never watched another. Until last week when I decided that with all the new SW stuff around I couldn’t ignore this pop culture blind spot any longer. We decided to watch all three originals as a family. Space! Robots! AND…!

That’s all I know! Because I can’t make it through a single movie without falling asleep. Not just a little bit asleep. Full on prescription strength sedative, hit me in the face with a brick level asleep. I spend 15 minutes of each movie trying valiantly to hold my eyes open and then I sleep the sleep of the comatose. Or I would if Sergio didn’t take it personally that I keep falling asleep. If I make it more than 15 minutes it is only because the guilt waves coming from the chair beside me are strong enough to push my eyes open as they crash over me. Not that he is that big a Star Wars fan either, he just thinks it’s rude of me to fall asleep that early in the day.

Needless to say, I still have a cultural blindspot and now some people have to hate me on principle.

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