Yesterday, I learned this and other lessons--like don't walk in halfway through a Nicholas Sparks adaptation when one of the main characters is saying sayanora--and sit in front of a sniffling grandma when you have four kids under seven with you.
My friend Sam and I took our combined Spring Break groupies to the Krik for movie thirty since it was a shivering 60 degrees here--brrr. She drew the "older girls tween drama," while I got to enjoy boogers and flarts with the boys and Gracie in "Diary of a Wimpy Kid." (You read the book, you see the movie in our household.) Not really sure which mom won as she left with tear stains, while I left slightly nauseous.
Our movie ended 45 minutes earlier, so we thought we'd catch Miley's grand finale. But I brought the ONLY boys and toddlers into this chick-packed theatre at the very worst moment. Sniff, sniff is the only spoiler you'll get. Suddenly, Gracie wanted to leave. The boys didn't. Gracie needed to run. The boys didn't. Gracie was going to get some popcorn to quiet her silly self down so people could cry in peace. So I left the boys with all those ladies and created another stir with our re-entry and popcorn dispersal. The grandma behind me was ready to kick my chair but I thought it was kind of nice how Gracie provided a much needed release from all that sniffling.
Today, we went to Chuck-E-Cheese.
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