Mom! You Are Not Allowed to Come to Movies with Me Anymore!

"Are you sure you want to see this movie?" I grumbled as I peered back at my 8-year-old son sitting quietly in the backseat fumbling with his Pokeman cards. "Yep!" he replied with no hesitation, To him this was fun! Turning the car into the movie theatre parking lot I drove slowly past the wall looking for an alternative, any alternative but Pokeman! The posters hung prominently, pictures of movie's I wished he were old enough to see, but this was it, I was on lock down and bound for torture for the next 2 hours of my life, and I knew, by experience that this was going to drag out.

Racing me to the theater door, I could see how excited he was; I smiled as he waited patiently for me walking begrudgingly toward the door recalling the first and second Pokeman movies we came to see. Moving slowly toward my boisterous son, I was never more confident that Pokeman was utter hell for grown ups. Wishing under my breath that whoever created this dumb little cult-like cartoon would be found and thrown across the border and never allowed to infiltrate the sanity of American families again.

"I am going to save this!" my son beamed holding his torn off ticket in hand. "Ok" I said balancing the popcorn, candy and pop I'd need to stay awake. The last Pokeman movie put me to sleep which left my son very disappointed in his mom. He didn't care that I snored or drooled, just that I missed the whole Pokeman adventure!

Within the first 10 minutes, I'd examined every visible corner of that half lit room even stared at the etching on the ceiling for awhile. I couldn't sit still and it was agitating my son. Glancing around I noticed how many grown ups were there watching this film without a child. "Weirdo's -probably pedophiles!" I thought. So in my utter boredom I started tearing the napkin apart, into small little pieces and then it struck me!

With my face turned away, I popped the first torn little napkin in mouth, grabbed for the straw and began my reign of terror. My son never saw it coming when the first spitball flew pegging him in the cheek. "Stop it!" he demanded with an intense expression on his face. "Ok" I laughed. A few minutes later, I let the next one fly, this time it missed my mark completely landing on the pant leg of a woman on the other side of my son sitting with her children.

Then I let fly the third one, this time it was stuck in my son's hair. Laughing, quietly (but hysterically) I looked over at him, staring at me with the sternest look on his little face."Stop it mom!" he declared. "Ok" I half promised, until the next one flew! From the corner of my eye I could see him staring at me, I wasn't ready to make eye contact.

Then suddenly he said, "Do we need to leave for a minute? You are a mom! What are you doing? You are embarrassing me!" He said ever so sternly. "Give me that!" he demanded as he grabbed the straw and the napkins from my hand. "Be quiet and settle down!" he said shaking his head. We made it through the horrible movie without any more misbehaving on my part. As we walked out into the parking lot, he stormed ahead of me toward the car turning back and pointing his finger at me, he furiously ranted "YOU are not allowed to come to movies with me anymore!" It took a lot of begging for forgiveness on the drive home, and a happy meal to make peace with him again!