I went to see The Lovely Bones on Saturday with Amanda.
I had read the book awhile back so I knew what it was about. I remember when I read the book that I couldn’t stop crying so I knew I should probably pack tissues for the movie—I was stuffing some into my purse when Tom walked into the kitchen. He was bleary eyed and a little confused—I had woken him up ten minutes before. He works the night shift and sleeps during the day. When I had rubbed his arm he had bolted upright in bed and said, “What? Work now?” and I went, “No dear. Not work. You just have to get up to watch the kids since I’m leaving.” (And don’t worry, he got plenty of sleep—he stumbled into bed around six in the morning, tossed his man leg over my waist and woke ME up, I might add...my movie started at 410 so I let Tom sleep until 3.)
“What are the tissues for?” Tom grumbled, scratching his head.
“If I cry. The book was sad so there’s a good chance that I’ll cry,” I said, pulling out some stale fruit snacks from my purse. Gross, I really need to clean it out. I picked up a coupon for Dominos. “So look, for dinner you can order pizza. Make sure you mention this coupon or they’ll charge you full price. This is the number you call and I suggest you call around 4 seeing that it’s Saturday and it could be busy....are you listening to me?”
Tom was teetering back and forth and was staring at the wall. “I’m listening. I’m just irritated. You treat me like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Well. Maybe because a lot of the times he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
“So here’s the coupon.” I slid it across the counter. “Remember to mention it before—”
“I know. Jesus!”
I hate that I have to treat him like a child but honestly if I don’t, he ends up calling me asking what he needs to do.
“So I’m leaving,” I said. I hugged Natalie, who was playing with her creepy Yo Gabba Gabba dolls.
“You play,” she said, shoving Foofa at me.
“I can’t. Mommy is leaving,” I answered.
Natalie’s face fell. “No!” Then she latched onto my ankle.
“Tom? A little help?”
But Tom was already in front of the computer, starting a game.
I eventually managed to pry her off of me by putting on Ni-Hao, Kai-Lan. Then I ran out.
(I'm free, I'm free, I'm free!)
When we got to the theater I got my medium diet coke and small popcorn (“you sure you don’t want to upgrade your drink to a large? Only forty cents more. You sure you don’t want a medium popcorn? The small is kinda…small…” the teenaged theater worker said..) and then Amanda and I had to wait a bit while they cleaned the room up. A few other people joined us to wait and then someone mentioned that the sequel to Alvin in the Chipmunks was painful to sit through.
“What? Don’t knock Alvin! He rocks!” some weird guy said.
“And you can’t go wrong with the Chipettes,” he added suggestively.
I wonder if he’s aware that they aren’t real.
And that they are chipmunks.
And again. Not real.
Thankfully we were able to go in so we could get away from Weird Chipette Lover.
The movie was good. I enjoyed it and it wasn’t all depressing. Although when it was over I vowed that my kids would never be allowed out of the house unsupervised again (because for those who don’t know, the movie deals with a child’s murder.) When I got home I burst through the house.
“Where’s Tommy?” I said.
Tom looked up with a start on the couch. “Uh. In the garage with his friends.”
“But it’s dark out! He has to come in. Someone could grab him!”
“Amber, have you been drinking?”
“He has to come in!” I ran to the garage and opened the door. “Tommy, you have to come in!”
“Are you okay?” Tom asked from behind me.
“I’m fine. It’s just…the movie made me all paranoid. Have you noticed any of our neighbors acting suspiciously?”
Tom frowned. “Not that I know of. Amber, seriously, what is going on?”
Tommy came in at that moment and I threw my arms around him. “Tommy, remember if anyone tries to lure you into an underground cave, you run.”
Tommy cast a confused look at Tom, who shrugged. “I don’t know what’s wrong with your mother either,” Tom said.
“And if anyone asks you to look at a puppy, you run,” I continued. “Stranger danger, Tommy. Stranger danger.”
“Mommy. You’re hurting me.”
I hadn’t realized that I was gripping onto his shoulders. Oops.
“I’m sorry,” I said, letting go. “But there are a lot of bad people in the world.”
I peeked out the window and eyed all the houses around us with suspicion. “In the movie the murderer lived across the street. Any of these people could be living secret lives.”
Tom sighed. “This is why you shouldn’t watch movies like this. You only upset yourself. Like when we saw Signs? You swore there were aliens running around in the backyard. Hell, you still think aliens are running around in our backyard. Repeat after me Amber: it’s just make believe. Our neighbors are sane and there are no aliens.”
“I’m going to my room,” Tommy said.
“Stranger danger!” I called to his back.
“I know that!” came Tommy’s irritated reply.
Tom rolled his eyes at me. “Let’s stop talking about this, okay? Let’s…talk about the Girl Scouts. They came by selling cookies.”
My heart lifted at the thought of Caramel Delights.
“Did you buy me Caramel Delights?” I asked.
Tom immediately looked guilty. “Um…no? Is that what you like?”
Is that what I like? We’ve only been married for EIGHT YEARS! He’s seen me eat the same Girl Scout Cookie for EIGHT YEARS.
“Well, what DID you buy?” I demanded. I flicked back the curtain and scowled out at the other houses. I’m onto you, secret creepy neighbors…maybe the Crazed Twilight Mom kidnaps children. She seems the type. I mean hell, she thinks Taylor Lautner is hot after all and she’s in her thirties and he’s seventeen. Ew.)
“I bought two boxes of Thin Mints and two boxes of Tagalongs,” Tom said.
“How sweet. At least you bought me a box of Thin Mints.” I kissed his cheek.
Tom looked guilty again. “Er…actually both boxes are for me…”
“Did you not order me anything?” I had to resist the urge to add, “you selfish bastard.”
“I didn’t know what you wanted!” Tom threw up his hands.
“Caramel Delights. Thin Mints! Basically anything except the healthy ones!” I shrieked.
“Well, they always sell boxes at Wal-Mart. Buy what you want there,” Tom said with a shrug.
“One of those Thin Mint boxes are mine. You don’t need four boxes of cookies,” I sulked.
“Oh, but I do.”
I peeked out the window again. “Our neighbor across the street has something strange in his garage. See, right there in the corner?”
Tom leaned over my shoulder to look. “A rake?”
I pressed my nose to the glass. Oh. It was a rake.
Well, in my defense, from a distance it looked like a dangerous weapon.