I took the two bigs to see Catching Fire last night.
Isabella got to stay home and go to swimming lessons instead. She passed her level, though, so I guess there’s a slight sliver of a silver lining. She passed the same level that her brother did not pass and we can go ahead and blame it on the broken finger and the two classes he missed, but we all know the truth, really, that Josh would rather be a clown in the pool than actually learn life-saving skills and there’s a good chance that the boy will be in the same level until he gets married which is 100% okay with me because I’m happy to keep re-enrolling him and at some point, I’m speculating, he will be annoyed that he’s a mostly-grown man child in level 3. I can out-stubborn just about anyone—so he doesn’t get to quit.
But where was I.
We took the subway downtown to a movie screening that was sponsored by Subway. I thought this was hilarious. The kids were like, WHERE’S MY DINNER? chased by giant eyerolls. And then I removed my Mom Of The Year tiara (I kept the sash on) and realized that I hadn’t fed my children any kind of dinner, thinking a movie sponsored by a sandwich brand would come with sandwiches. This is why I mostly stay at home in my sweatpants and eat Cookie Crisp straight out of the box. So, we shared a popcorn dinner laced with a side of Bath & Body Works gingerbread anti-bacterial hand gel, because who the heck knows what my son picked up from touching every single touchable surface on the subway. Emily is the opposite, sporting gloves and being careful to touch exactly nothing unless absolutely necessary and then reminding herself to set said gloves aflame. My kid, that one.
We all really enjoyed the movie. “What was your favorite part?” Josh asked me in rinse/repeat cycle mode. I took issue with the giant monkeys, and the BOILS (the hunger games were starting to feel an awful lot like the ten plagues) and the fact that I had to take Josh out to the bathroom in the middle, but other than that, it was mostly satisfying. I think it worked to my advantage that my overcrowded brain didn’t remember a single detail from the second book so everything that happened was a complete surprise to me.
On the subway (the transportation, not the sandwich. We were still hungry) home, Josh was still in favorite part mode, although not really waiting to hear my actual answer before jabbering on and on comparing and contrasting movie and book, something he knows a little bit about, having read this second installment more than eight times. He’s a dedicated fan, this one. Also, he suffers from extreme fast reading skills and a mom who doesn’t supply enough material at 1am when he has insomnia.
It was practically the most adorable one-sided conversation I have ever had.
As he delved into how he didn’t feel like Finnick looked right and he is still undecided about Beetee, he stopped again and asked me
“Hey Mama, what was your favorite part?”
“This, Josh. This one dress of Effie’s that made a really quick appearance. But I just absolutely loved it and kind of want to own it.”
“Really? THAT was your favorite part? It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
But I lied.
My favorite part was the subway ride home.