In a curious coincidence, tonight I saw The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants with two of my daughters and one of their friends, and, at a separate locale, my youngest son and his pals also went.
It's a girl movie, okay, and there were flaws, some flaws, sure. But we all got a good cry out of it and felt affirmed in our female bonds.
So, my son trips in the house with his friend, full of hijinks and boy-wit at 1:15 a.m. I'm the kind of mom that can't sleep till the kids are home, if they're supposed to come home, so I'm making good use of my time by playing computer Free Cell. Jeez. Anyhow, they decided to see The Sisterhood instead of The Longest Yard, piece of garbage that that film is, because they will amuse themselves by making fun of the girl movie.
Say what you will about this practice of satiric movie watching. Here's what he had to say about the film:
"They're all, like, 'I can't believe these pants fit all of us! What should we do with the pants?' Uh, I don't know--buy them?"
or "So they're all making the rules, and that one girl said, 'No one else can unzip the pants,' and I turned to Dustin and said, 'Why?'"
and "I liked it! We should buy it, but we should wait for the special limited edition that comes with a pair of pants."
Dear readers, I am observing my son turn into a guy.
(By the way, I expect none of the congratulatory comments I read in other blogs about how I'm raising my kid right. I see my job here as keeping it real. Judge me if you must.)