Tuesday, July 13th, 2010 | Author:

This is a story of my 2.5 year old and how she elicited gasps of horror from a couple dozen mothers while I tried unsuccessfully to control my laughter.

DISCLAIMER: I realize I share entirely too many stories and photos about my child in a massive public forum. And, the WORST part about this is that I honestly hate people who do that, especially because so many of the “Listen to the hilarious thing my gifted/talented/world-saving child did!!!” stories are just so painfully mediocre that they make me want to punt a kitten. Additionally, I also realize that I’m completely biased and unoriginal because I think my kid is genuinely awesome. So, just so you know, I’m totally self-aware about the image I’m painting of myself as a suburban mother whose life revolves around a toddler. I get it.

So, there are free movies every Tues-Thurs morning at a massive multiplex up the road from us that we’ve been attending as we can. Because these are free, I don’t mind leaving 45 minutes in when Chloe is no longer interested in staring at a giant screen, even when I let her do running commentary.

Today’s feature film was the agonizingly formulaic “Arctic Tale”, which played out like every other here’s-the-story-of-a-modern-baby-polar-bear’s-life-and-how-it’s-going-to-die-because-you-”need”-to-buy-a-giant-car-YOUAHOLE!! Aaanyway, there was a scene in this movie in which a large polar bear sets its sights on a baby seal and begins to pursue it, thundering through the water as the music mounts and children all around us begin to cry out in their “IT’S GONNA EAT ME IN MY SLEEP!!!” terror. Just as the cacophony of kids screaming reaches it’s pinnacle, the “auntie” of said baby seal swoops in and thwarts the predatory bear’s mission, much to the relief of everyone in the audience…

…Except my angelic, blonde haired, blue eyed, pink dress-laden daughter, who slaps one hand to her forehead, reaches an upturned palm toward the screen and yells, “Ah, COME ON!!!”

The glowers of sheer disdain and pure judgment from my parenting peers couldn’t quell my hysterical laughter for the next five minutes until the Bear, now disillusioned with the film’s lack of baby-seal-mauling scenes, insisted we “leave to home.”

I have the best sidekick ever.

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