We are caught up in the Marvel Universe. We just need to see Thor: Ragnarok. Or really, the boys need to see Ragnarok. I saw it weeks ago. And my plan was to take the boys to see it this week in the second hand theaters.
It’s not there yet.
So I promised. Not this weekend because they’re with their dad. But next week I’ll take them to see Ragnarok.
Tornado E: Or I could ask Daddy.
Me: No. No. Your dad has already proven he can’t handle taking you to Marvel movies.
Tornado E: It was late. We hadn’t had dinner yet.
Me: You do not skip end credit scenes. You plan for that. You don’t come into movies late. You just don’t.
I mean. Honestly. I’m trying to raise kids who respect the story, respect the movie. Their dad should know better.
Tornado E: I’m going to ask Daddy to take us any ways.
Me: I won’t take you to see Black Panther.
I know. Harsh. But desperate times, people.
Tornado E: But Mama…..
I raised an eyebrow.
He pouted.
Then they got to talk to their dad on the phone several hours later.
Tornado E: Daddy! I’ve got an idea for the weekend.
Me: (hissing) Tornado E.
Tornado E: (laughing.) Nevermind, Daddy. (Sticks out his tongue at me and carries on his conversation with his dad)
I looked over at my dad and pointed at Tornado E and then gestured “What the hell?” My father has no sympathy. He laughed.
Me: Why does he have to be so mean?
My dad: He’s Got Our Genes.
My family is pranksters, jokesters, and storytellers. And we’re mean as hell just for the laughs. Stupid genes.
Faemom 
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