Remember that horrible woman from Sixth Sense who was secretly poisoning her daughter (Mischa Barton) with cleaning products in a pathetically sick effort to gain attention for herself? You do? Well, by the way, that is definitely not me.
But I do have one tiny confession to make.
My boy was home sick with me for the last two days. My thirteen year old boy. The one who will be changing schools in the fall to start high school. (Because here in New Orleans, many high schools begin in 8th grade. A fact I hate now more than ever.) And, while I’m certainly never happy to see him ailing or uncomfortable, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I savored every minute of our recently borrowed time together.
Dave was at work and my girl (also know as one of my appendages) was at school. It was just Dean and me. All of his friends were in class, there were no big games on TV and he was too tired to play XBox. So I actually had a shot at getting (and keeping) his attention. Which was awesome.
We had a great couple of days together, he and I. We talked a lot, indulged in a little comfort food and got in some real quality time with Milo and Herve. (For anyone just tuning in, that’s what we call the cat and the hamster in this family.) And we finally got a chance to watch the latest Men in Black installment. (Thanks, Amazon Instant Video.)
Then, I had another idea for a movie.
It’s hard to find one that Dean wants to see and I’m willing to watch or, more importantly, willing to let him watch. But then I remembered something that Dave and I had been kicking around for a while. From time to time, we like to expose our boy to an old classic … but it needs to be exciting … and maybe a little inappropriate … but not too inappropriate. And, if it’s going to be scary, it’s best that it feature a villain who can’t possibly exist in any of our daily lives. Except when we go on a beach vacation.
Yep, you guessed it.
And then, when we were done …
Sure, I’ve probably completely screwed up any chance of him swimming in the ocean this summer … but since I
am still unable to submerge myself in open water without becoming paralyzed in fear thanks to these merciless, maneating machines choose not to, what difference does it make?
I hadn’t seen either of these films in years. They’ve actually pretty well stood the test of time. Except that, perhaps in search of a more “real” feel for the scene, Spielberg and company apparently thought anyone was qualified for being scantily-clad on the beach. But remember … airbrush, exercise and plastic surgery weren’t so prevalent back then. And the world wasn’t so obsessed with youth.
Seriously, this was probably one of the scariest scenes in the movie.
And there are still two more Jaws movies in queue waiting for our next mother and son adventure. Yes, I know they suck. I actually saw Jaws 3 (in 3-D) with Dennis Quaid back in the day. And the last one entitled Jaws 4 – The Revenge? Well, I think the preview speaks for itself.
But who cares? I can’t wait! The truth is … I’d do anything for this kid, with this kid and to be near this kid.
I’m glad you’re feeling better, Dean. I’ll miss you today.