Let me tell you, 13 is a hard age for parents and adolescents alike. Isabella had a tiff on Valentine's Day with her, ummm, boyfriend. I still have problems with that word.
Guys are such jerks.
Anyway, to save her from terminal sullenness, my wife suggested we take Isabella to see Twilight, which I cannot believe she has not yet seen. This girl has read ALL the books, SEVERAL times. It turns out the boyfriend has as much interest in this flick as do I.
So off we go to the cheapo theater to sit in, I kid you not, a PACKED theater months after this film was first released. Patrons were visibly tense in anticipation of what was to come: vampire love.
Oy.
I never struggled with inappropriate laughter so hard in my life. The woman in front of me was crying because she was so touched by the vampire love thing. Tears were streaming down my face snickering over tree-climbing, blood-sucking, puppy-eyed stalkers who had the worst case of psoriasis I'd ever seen.
I never got into the Ann Rice thing either, but at least with those stories, you got to spend time in Romantic and mysterious New Orleans. This movie drags you to the dreariest part of the Northwest where there's so many things besides vampires to suck the life right out of you. Halfway through this very, very long movie, I was ready to pound a stake through my own heart.
On the way into the cinema, I said to Isabella, "Do you know how much I love you that I would go see this movie? Now I have to break it to her that I don't love her enough to see the sequel. Sorry. I'll upgrade your cellphone or something. Parenting is hard in ways you never expect.
Monday, February 16, 2009
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