I might as well just get it over with and go pull the entire roll of toilet paper out of guest bathroom, cuz I'm gonna need all 500 of the 4.5"x4.5" squares that Angel Soft has to offer. I just finished watching the most depressing movie on the face of the planet. And I did it while eating a bowl of tin roof ice cream, drizzled with chocolate syrup. It turns out I need about 6 more bowls in an attempt to fill the empty hole in my heart where joy and happiness once existed, since the ending of this movie ripped every ounce of it out.
Earlier this week Ava ran into my room with her hands over her eyes yelling "I don't like it Mommy! It's scary and I don't want to watch it!" I assumed she was watching another episode of Yo Gabba Gabba. (You know that show creeps you out too.) Turns out that wasn't what was scaring her, it was a movie called Halloweentown. Before you question my kickass TV parental control - it was on a kid friendly channel - thank you- but the people in the town walked around in scary costumes and stuff. Hence the whole "Halloween"town thing. Ava was really freaked out and I calmly put her in my lap explained it's just a movie honey, and that was that, she was all better.
Why can't I just tell myself it's just a movie, then calm down and go on with my evening? Why do I have to get all snotty and swollen eyed and drown my sorrows in an excess of creamy delicious Bluebell? This movie was based on obvious history, I'm aware of that, but my point is I get carried away into most movies well after they've ended. Especially with horror flicks. Terry is now used to the demand in me keeping the 150 watt overhead light on when we sleep if I've recently seen anything scary. I watched Hostel when I was pregnant with Ava and - holy shit - I jolted myself into false labor at least 3 times watching that freak show.
I carry those horrible thoughts to bed with me, and I always have. I have terrible night terrors. I've woken up at Terry's mom's house in the middle of the night screaming my head off. This has also happened at our friends house too, but that was way worse because I screamed Terry's name out loud. God knows they think I'm crazy or really, really, rude to do that in their guest room. (Hi Jeremy and Jennifer!) I swear it was a nightmare.
Hopefully one day my night terrors will come to an end and I will consistently sleep sound once again. Because if they don't, the nights of unintentionally smacking Terry in the face or accidentally catapulting Slippers from her warm sleeping spot on the bed, across the room and into the closet door will most likely continue. Sorry Slipps. I swear it was a nightmare.
The Boy In The Striped Pajamas. Grab a roll of toilet paper and press play.
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2 comments:
I am half way through the movie - I am hiding in my office filing and have it playing on the computer while I file and make order. But, I don't want to cry. So I also rented ROLE MODELS. I figured that would make me laugh.
lemme know how RM is, Terry wants to see it
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