Grace made a grown-up decision to be a child for the afternoon. She’s been doing that a lot lately in this time between pretend proms with her junior high friends and presenting her case for why I should allow her to wear make-up for real. I gave in with one stipulation: she can wear mascara on special occasions.
On Saturday we opted to take in a matinée, a rather expensive, thus special, endeavor in our one theatre town. Our choices were between two action-packed PG13 flicks and one sure to be plenty goofy PG movie. We’d heard good things about Gravity and also really liked the Marvel series, having just rented the first Thor so we’d be ready to see this second one. But Owen Wilson is a good actor and he’s the voice of the lead turkey in Free Birds.
Make a Decision
We figured this was likely the last weekend for Gravity because of how long it’d been playing, so we’d still have time to take in the other two. “Make a decision, Mom,” my 12-year-old said, stepping up to the ticket window and reaching into her pocket.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, leaning into the small round screen in the window. “What do you think?” I asked the employee. “Gravity or Free Birds?”
The girl looked up at us. “Well, Gravity is scary and I haven’t seen the other yet.”
While that did not help me any, Grace slid a ten-dollar bill across the counter and said, “One ticket for Free Birds.”
I chuckled and pushed her ten back toward her, withdrawing a twenty from my billfold. “Two for Free Birds.”
“Mom,” my little adult stammered, “I’m gonna buy my own ticket.”
“Let me get this,” I said. “You buy the snacks.”
“What’s the best deal for popcorn and a drink?” she asked the concession clerk, gripping a wad of cash in her manicured hand.
I beamed proudly as she settled on the large-with-one-free-refill popcorn and medium drink with two straws. Just as prideful, she handed over her payment, adding that, yes, we would like extra butter.
Showtime
Finding our seats two-thirds of the way up from the screen and centered under the projector, she glanced around at the other patrons. “I’m the oldest kid in here,” she observed.
That she was and, I pointed out, I was definitely the oldest parent.
We waited to dive into the buttery popcorn until the previews began. “This may sound weird, but I want to see that,” she said about the trailer to a holiday princess movie.
No, it didn’t sound weird. It sounded refreshing. I looked over at her, amused by the thick clumps of mascara and not so thin streak of eye liner that framed her wide hazel eyes as she watched the Disney previews.
We laughed out loud during the movie and whispered how some of the characters reminded us of her adult brothers – those turkeys!
An hour and a half later, I put the empty Pepsi cup into the empty popcorn bag and we made our way out of the theatre.
The Reviews
“What’d you think?” I asked.
“It was good,” she said, handing me back my jacket that she’d borrowed inside before we headed out to the parking lot and anyone who might recognize her there. “Better than I expected.”
I agreed as I unlocked our doors. Once in, she promptly pulled the vanity mirror down and wiped at a black smudge under her left lower lash while frowning.
Smiling myself for the hundredth time of our afternoon, I started the car and continued in the direction of growing up.