A Leisurely Day Out With Two Kids (Snort)

A while back, my husband and I had an apparent brain fart and decided that we would try taking both boys to a movie. Our four-year old loves going to the movies and can sit through just about anything, cartoon or not, like a champ.

But then, there’s our two-year old. We tried taking him about four months ago to a new, very popular animated movie. He made it about twenty minutes. During those twenty minutes he wiggled, he made loud noises, and he bummed popcorn from the family sitting behind us who we happened to be acquainted with, thank goodness.

My husband had the brilliant idea that we should go watch Iron Man 3 in 3D at the IMAX Theater, in a town about an hour away. The IMAX Theater is a pretty cool experience, so I guess I let the thought of the ginormous screen paired with 3D graphics cloud my good judgment.

Well, when we arrived there was already a line coming out of the building. Because we decided to go on opening weekend, of course. Because we’re just smart like that. The only remaining seats were on the bottom row, second from the very front.

I literally could have stretched my arms and almost touched the screen.

Things were okay at first. That is, until the lights went out and the previews came on. I’ll tell you. There is definitely a difference in the persona of movie goers attending an animated, kid movie and movie goers attending a non-cartoon super hero movie.

They latter are not forgiving. I’m pretty sure I got disapproving looks before my child even started making any noises.

And before he even started making noises, I realized this was a completely ridiculous idea.

I had noticed that the ticket said the movie was about two and a half hours. Now, I didn’t think for a minute that my child would sit quietly for that long. Even if we did stuff him with endless popcorn, coke, and candy.

Well, after preview number one, I had to pull out the candy that I had hidden in my purse because we are too cheap to buy a $5.00 bag of “rip-off” at the movies. So we sneak our candy inside instead.

Don’t tell me that you don’t do that. You do, right?

Well, it’s pretty bad when the previews have only been going for four minutes and you already have to dig into your sugary-ammunition. There are only so many Skittles in that bag, you know? They need to be rationed.

Especially if they’re going to last through a two-hour movie. Which, of course there’s no way they ever would.

Keaton insisted on sitting in a chair by himself. He sat back with his little feet sticking off the end of the seat. There was a man sitting in front of him, on the very front row. He had leaned his seat back as far as it would go in an attempt to ease the strain on his neck, I guess.

Well, in doing so, Keaton’s feet were touching the top of his seat.

This was actually the man’s fault, since my two-year old son is about the size of a big cabbage patch doll. But I guess the man didn’t see it that way. He glanced back a couple of times giving us dirty looks as Keaton tapped his feet.

We tried to get our little one to stop, but my goodness, if you get a two-year old to actually sit down for any period of time you’ve performed a miracle. Asking him to sit and keep his feet completely still is totally unrealistic.

Not gonna happen.

Well, he tapped his feet once more, even after our warnings. (Imagine that.) This time the man turned around and said, “Get your kid!” I wanted to explain to him that he was practically sitting in my kid’s lap and that if a normal-sized human being was sitting in my son’s seat there is no way in you-know-where that he would be able to lean that far back.

Yeah, I wanted to say that.

But, instead I took that as my cue to snatch my son and bolt out of there.

As soon as we got in the lobby of the theater I felt the sweet relief of freedom. Freedom from the judging, disapproving eyes of Iron Man die-hards. Much of whom obviously must not have children of their own or else they might’ve had a little more patience for two-year old foot tapping.

Then, I felt the not-so-sweet dread of having to keep a two-year old occupied for over two hours, while my husband and oldest son finished the movie.

Luckily this movie theater is located in a promenade shopping center. But, unluckily I didn’t bring a stroller or anything (not that my child would have willingly sat in one). Shopping with a toddler is nearly impossible anyway. Shopping with a toddler, by yourself, and without a stroller, is dang near hopeless.

But, what other choice did I have?

So, off we went. On a “fun” shopping excursion.

After the first store, I realized that I wasn’t actually shopping at all. That wasn’t what this was. I was actually entangled against my will in this game of hide-and-go-seek with my toddler. As soon as he would get out of my arms, off he would go. I would frantically look around the store, sometimes spotting him.

Sometimes not.

If I didn't spot him, most times he ended up being found under a rack of clothing or in the dressing room. So, I resorted to holding him in the store.

Which is about as dang near impossible as taking a two-year old to the movies.

And try getting your items (none of which you had time to try on) on the checkout counter, get out your wallet, get your debit card out of that wallet, swipe your debit card, and enter your pin number. All the while holding a fairly heavy purse and a super heavy child.

A child who is in no way cooperating.

He’s trying with all his might to escape, like a wild animal that doesn’t want to be caged. He all but bit me. Even he knew better than that.

By the time I left that first store, I was sweaty, holding a purse, an agitated toddler, and bag containing items that I didn’t even get to try on. In fact, I wasn’t even sure what I had bought.

In store number two, my son tried the whole hide-and-seek game once again. But, this time he was pretty easy to find. In fact, all I had to do was sniff. Of course, he had a dirty diaper. And by the smell of things, it was a whopper.

So, we left the store in search of a bathroom. We walked all the way to the end of the promenade only to find no bathroom. So, we walked all the way to the other end of the promenade. Still no bathroom that I could see.

Finally we stopped inside a small ice-cream shop and used their bathroom.

When I opened that diaper it was just as bad as I had thought. And realizing that in an attempt to carry less, I had thrown a diaper in my purse and left the diaper bag in the car.

So, I had a new diaper but no wipes. Sweet.

This often is no big deal. At least when it’s a number one. But, a number two is a much different story. So, I got some toilet paper wet and began attempting to clean my smelly son.

After ten minutes we emerged from the bathroom.

There was a sign on the wall that read “Only Customers Can Use the Bathroom”. So, I decided we better order some ice-cream. It was our duty as law abiding citizens, right?

Plus I kind of felt like I deserved it. As we were eating our ice-cream I looked at the time, nervously. We still had an hour and a half. An hour and a half. Are you stinking kidding me?

Lord help us. Okay, Lord help me.

Realizing that we better not go to any more stores for a while I decided to let my son down to explore. But instead of staying in the grassy area that I had let him down in, he took off for the beautiful, perfectly manicured flower garden that is displayed outside the theater.

He was romping and stomping right in the middle of all the flowers. I kept yelling at him to get out. But for some reason he didn’t seem to hear me. Oh wait. I remember the reason now.

He’s two-years old and therefore NEVER “hears” me. Also, he's male. Yes, I said it.

As people walked by, some laughed at the sight of my son crushing flowers by the second. Some shot disapproving looks our way. And some had expressions of pity. Finally I had to climb in myself and pull him out, kicking and screaming the whole way.

Seriously. That was THE longest two and a half hours of my life. I will now cross “movies” off of the list of enjoyable leisurely things to do.

Just one more thing my kids took away from me. Along with any shred of youth and energy I might have left in this tired body of mine.