So, I took the girls to see Ratatouille last Friday. Wait, let me start at the beginning.
Friday was, in the Manise house, the day of the year known as Black Friday. It is the last weekday of Bruce's month-long vacation.
We all know I love spending time with Juliette and Evie, but they love structure--which is not something I excel at unless I am being paid to do so.
So, Bruce comes home for a month in the summer and every day is a party. I can run errands, the girls have constant attention and someone who lets them chew gum and watch television when I am not around.
Black Monday, yesterday, is the saddest weekday of the year. The gum-reservoir has dried up and there will be no television until Jennifer has a conference call.
Anyways, so last Friday, realizing it was Bruce's last weekday home, I offered to take the girls to the movies. He does chores around the house during his month off, and it is remarkably easier to do this without "help."
Off to a darkened theater we went. I thought the girls would love the movie -- with the gastronomic themes and intelligent banter. This was no "feel the IQ points falling away" Happy Feet. Both girls love to cook. There were no killer whales - what better fun to have?
EXCEPT Evie is petrified of all things furry in the known world. I figured a cooking rat would be ok, because rats are small.
A fatal mistake.
Yes in real life rats are small. On a big screen in the fifth row, a rat is as tall as a building.
The screaming commenced.
And went on.
And on.
We called her father from the theater. He came and got her.
Juliette and I went back in to watch the rest, then Juliette wanted to know how much longer she had to stay.
So, Bruce ended up having some "help" with his last day of repair projects after all.
