I don’t always sneak treats into the movies. Most of the time I am a complete cheapskate when it comes to movie food product purchases, but last week my family and I spent our hard-earned money on a variety of overpriced items while visiting a nice theater in Lakeland.
The day started out in a roller rink. I know. Why in the world would I, an RN, risk my life and limb for a couple mediocre hours attempting to enjoy something that involves disco lights and potential bodily harm? The short answer is this: my husband, Chris, bought our daughter a pair of roller skates.
Chris can skate. He can do practically anything, which is one reason I love him so much. The rest of us were more or less floundering around the rink hoping for the best. For a while, I didn’t fall. I kept thinking to myself, “You have to work tomorrow. Don’t become a patient.”
Everything was wonderful until “Roll-On the Barbarian” crashed into me. He was probably in his 30s and it was an accident. Still, he was going well above an advisable speed limit for the edges of the rink where young children and scared moms were creeping along. I fell onto my hip which would have surely broken if I were 30 years older, but I’m 40 and “thick around the edges” so I bounced.
Chris was beyond upset. As much as I wanted to see him squash the guy’s head into a pickle jar, I figured forgiveness was the best option. Soon after that, we packed up our stuff and set off to see the new “Planet of the Apes” movie.
Lakeland has one of those theaters where every seat is great. They recline a bit and are set up stadium style. Once we had our swag and settled in our lush chairs, I figured everything was going to fall into place. I was mistaken.
The first annoyance was my own spawn. She picked cotton candy and bottled water at the concession stand. It seemed harmless at first, but once the theater became quiet, the error of my judgment was blaringly obvious.
For some reason, she was unable to allow gravity the opportunity to assist her hydration needs while using a bottle. Instead, she made loud crunching sounds with the bottle as she squeezed it tight to ensure the water flowed out a fast rate. Me saying “STOP IT!” in a loud whisper was not exactly silent either.
Then, her cotton candy was packaged in a foil bag. What was I thinking? She felt the need to roll it up and unroll it each time she took a bite; crinkle, crinkle. “Mommy, do you want some?” She asked so innocently.
“I want you to stop crinkling that bag!” The apes were quieter than her.
Next, the baby started acting up. Who brings a baby to a loud ape movie? I couldn’t believe it. That is why they have babysitters. You know how many new movies my husband and I saw the first two years after our son was born? Zero. It’s called sacrifice.
Finally, the last distraction was the smokers. They got up twice and came back reeking of cigarettes. I know people who smoke and quitting isn’t easy, but it was like they bathed in a smoke shower.
Besides all that, the film was okay, just a bit long. It will be a while before we go to another movie and I’ll be smuggling snacks next time: marshmallows in cloth sacks with drinks in army canteens.