Some people work to cure cancer, others are fighting the war on poverty. Me? My selfless act is to help people spend money on stuff they need, like clothes and bags and makeup and, of course, killer shoes. But, that's not all. I like to eat. And complain (most specifically about how hard it is to be a mom). Oh, and obsess over the next perfect pair of shoes.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Ahhh, Family Movie Night.
Oops.
That's all I've got to say after Netflixing "Mr. Mom" for family movie night. A few weeks back when the montage of John Hughes movies popped up during the Oscars, "Mr. Mom" was one of the clips. I loved that movie as a kid.
So, last night, my younguns gathered 'round the TV and maybe half an hour into it there was a "shit." I glanced around. Thank goodness for the tinny sound of movies from the 1980s because I don't think anyone could really tell what was said. Although the oldest knows alllll those choice words because her dad thought it would be good to talk about 'em all after another kid dropped an 'f' bomb in — wait for it — religious ed class! At church! Niiiice. After the f-in' incident, Joe sat her down and rattled off every four-letter word he knew and told her each's meaning.
Then, there was the scene when the other ladies dragged Michael Keaton to the male strip club. The synthish porn music started and the dancers, in space suits, slowly unzipped and peeled off the outfits. My youngest, coincidentally clad in only a pull-up, immediately pops up and starts gyrating along with 'em.
Niiice. He did not end up with any dollars in his drawers.
And then there was the classic scene when Keaton is in the bathroom and realizes that one of the ladies from the neighborhood gaggle is making a play for him and he debates the pros and cons of going for it in the mirror.
"She wants it," he says, pointing a finger at his reflection.
"What's he talking about?" asks the oldest one. "What's 'it'?"
But I'd have to say my favorite part of the whole movie watching experience was when Keaton set up an ironing board in the kitchen while he was watching soap operas. The iron was flat down on the board and smoking, as it burned through the cover.
"What's that?" the youngest one asked. "What does that do?"
Yeah, ironing is one R-rated event my kids have yet to witness in our household.
What does one wear for Family Movie Night? An ancient Banana Republic cami, an even older J. Crew hoodie and Gilligan O'Malley sleep pants. Aaaaaaaaah.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
This post cracks me up as I have been there too many times. The old ratings system "PG" yea..right. We loved these movies and can only remember laughing at them only to pop them in for our kids and *cringe*cringe..ooh..*cringe* And then look at each other like, OOOPS=/ One of my kids' now "classic" favorites..Ferris Bueller.
What a hoot! I know - all those old movies and everything just sailed right over our heads. Nowadays, they don't miss a thing!!
Post a Comment