Here’s my professional tip of the day: If your child is afraid of bears, you may want to skip the movie Brave.

My child, I thought, was scared of only one thing—spiders. Teeny-weeny, small, medium-sized, climbing up water spouts, it doesn’t matter. If it has legs, she doesn’t want to have anything to do with it. It’s the spider time of the year right now

(if there’s really no such thing as spider season I urge you not to be internet know-it-alls who didn’t even read the post but leave comments like, “ALI SPIDER SEASON DOESN’T EXIST, DUMBASS.” I’d rather continue to live my life thinking that spiders come out to play in the spring and summer, mmmkay?)

so I spend a lot of my time these days standing on a chair with a tissue in hand, armed and dangerous to protect the ceilings of my second floor for my soon-to-be second grader so she can sleep in peace and not have any nightmares about spiders crawling into her mouth.

(Thanks, person who told her about that whole eating seven spiders myth.)

It interesting that she’s afraid of these little tiny harmless spiders when the child can watch JAWS on repeat like it’s Sesame Street. And then take a leap right into the ocean with nary a care in the world. Nothing but spiders seems to ever scare her. Witches? Good! Vampires? Awesome! Zombies—she loves ’em. Sharks, whales, lions, tigers, snakes, cheetahs. Tornadoes, hurricanes, volcanos, tsunamis. Roller coasters, heights, public speaking, the dark.

No. No. No.

Nope. Just the one thing.

It turns out, though, that she is actually scared of TWO things.

No wonder she never wants to watch Brother Bear.

My review: While certainly not the best I have seen, they did a good job throwing the Scottish accent at me so I didn’t even realize that it’s not the best I’ve seen—I’m too busy trying to say “If you could change your fate, would you?” in my very best Ewan McGregor that comes out an awful lot more like Fat Bastard. Also, coveting all of that unruly red hair. Also, trying to figure out what those pastry dessert things were that they were eating. It was Shrek meets Brother Bear meets How to Train Your Dragon, but, you know, in a mildly good way. Merida’s hair was so lovely and the music was so, so good it was kind of easy to overlook the weak last 3/4 of the film, the fact that there are bears in Scotland, and it’s predictability.

Special thing to note that I absolutely loved to stinkin’ much. Queen Elinor was not given Botox.

See?

See?

See?

How wonderful is this?

That right there is the most REAL-looking mother to ever step foot on a cartoon screen. Laugh lines, life lines, worry lines. Just like ME—a mother.

In addition, she tells her daughter that a princess doesn’t stuff her gob, which I do as well with my own daughters, on a more-than-regular basis. So, you know, *that* hit home right there.

Josh’s review: So, so good. Let’s see it again. Right now! Also, Mama, she’s better than Katniss!

Isabella’s review: I can’t believe you made me watch that. You are so mean to me, Mama.

It’s like Charlotte’s Bloody Web all over again. 

But with Scottish accents.

And wrinkles.