Today started out as a so-so day. I am suffering from a small cold, nothing big, just enough to make me want to lie on a couch like a slug. It is hotter than it should be outside, and inside the children (sensing my weakness no doubt) have been arguing back and forth with each other.
Everyone was just a bit irritable, just a bit grouchy, and just a bit whiny. Especially me. It was one of those days when I was forced to break out my secret weapon: family movie time.
So we all snuggled on the couch together and watched Return of the Mummy. Egyptian mythology, sword fights, small murderous pygmies, and Brendan Fraser: a little something for everyone.
The kids had never watch this show with us before so I warned them that there could be a few scary parts and they might need to cover their eyes. My oldest daughter looked at me and said breathlessly horrified, “Oooh man! Like people kissing each other and stuff?”
So instead of warning my children to close their eyes when carnivorous scarabs devoured helpless humans, I cautioned them when any lovey-dovey nonsense was about to happen.
My children and their strange ways make me happy, so very, very happy. Even on what started out as a bad day.