Tonight there was finally, finally, finally that balmy note to the air letting us know yes, summer is on its way. I know, I know – I’ve been a PNWer most of my life, but some part of me still forgets that we have late-blooming summers. My friend Sara has been wearing “spring / summer” shirts and light sweaters since February in an attempt to get the weather to participate in the fantasy.
The four of us, along with friend Cyn, took our kids to the seven o’clock showing of Cars here at our local snooty (yet admittedly cool) movie theatre (note Euro spelling of the word “theatre”, proving it really is higher class than any other theater in town). Our kids were very notty up to and including throwing things (the stylus from my husband’s smartphone), wiggling (Sophie, until I finally realized she had to pee and took her downstairs to address the issue), yelling, “Oh no!” loudly (but at appropriate intervals in the film), and shitting their pants (thankfully, just Nels). I mean, we were at a family movie with a lot of other children, but I honestly felt our small corner had more disruptions than anyone else’s. I expected to get glares as we left; in a tactical move we stayed until the very end of the credits and avoided such hate.
This was Nels’ first movie theatre experience, so – I guess it was all and all a success.