An American Tail
Today Big E, Poppy Yoy and I went to the movies to screen the 80s classic, An American Tail.
This was to be Big E's first movie theatre experience. I went in with zero expectations. I figured if we lasted 15 minutes it would be a miracle.
I have to say, I was very impressed with the little Yoy. Granted, I had a giant bag of bribery goodness made up of Jelly Bellies. But he did sit in my lap and in Poppy's lap and take in some of the movie.
He also attempted to sit in his own seat, but at a whopping 27 pounds, the seat kept folding him up like a clam. Epic fail.
Seated next to us was another rambunctious little boy sharing the same hebrew name as Big E. He dumped an entire bag of popcorn on the floor, stomped on it, and then proceeded to gobble it up like a vacuum. With an embarrassed look on her face, his mother kept telling me how well behaved Big E was (wwwhhhhaaaatttt???) and how she couldn't keep her son from eating off the floor.
This time I wasn't that mother. It was nice to not be her for once. But the sympathy was still flowing through my veins for this mother. I've been there. A hundred times. So I told her how Big E ate off the floor of the airplane (see The Boy in the Bubble). This seemed to make her feel better and we bonded over our sons' affinity for eating off the floor.
It was a good day.
This was to be Big E's first movie theatre experience. I went in with zero expectations. I figured if we lasted 15 minutes it would be a miracle.
I have to say, I was very impressed with the little Yoy. Granted, I had a giant bag of bribery goodness made up of Jelly Bellies. But he did sit in my lap and in Poppy's lap and take in some of the movie.
He also attempted to sit in his own seat, but at a whopping 27 pounds, the seat kept folding him up like a clam. Epic fail.
Seated next to us was another rambunctious little boy sharing the same hebrew name as Big E. He dumped an entire bag of popcorn on the floor, stomped on it, and then proceeded to gobble it up like a vacuum. With an embarrassed look on her face, his mother kept telling me how well behaved Big E was (wwwhhhhaaaatttt???) and how she couldn't keep her son from eating off the floor.
This time I wasn't that mother. It was nice to not be her for once. But the sympathy was still flowing through my veins for this mother. I've been there. A hundred times. So I told her how Big E ate off the floor of the airplane (see The Boy in the Bubble). This seemed to make her feel better and we bonded over our sons' affinity for eating off the floor.
It was a good day.
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