Where the Wild Things Are

I took the boys to the movie "Where the Wild Things Are" tonight. There's a scene where Max is leaving his monster friends to go back home to his mom. I look over, and there is Colby, head in his hands, sobbing. Quinn is wiping away tears. Behind us, a little three year old girl is bawling. Across the aisle, I see a grown woman crying. I couldn't help but laugh. Making all the kids and moms cry, this movie. I'm actually glad the boys can empathize with a character. Empathy's a good trait to have, I think.

On a side note, taking an 11 month old baby to a movie is NOT a wise choice. She babbled loudly the entire time - howling each time the monsters on screen did. And squirmed squirmed squirmed. Colby got his foot stuck in the back of the movie chair for a full 30 minutes before I could finally get it out. And Quinn went to the restroom THREE times, and kept talking loudly to me for the duration. Maybe I wasn't as in to the movie, as I didn't get to actually ENJOY it as much as the rest of them. It wasn't as bad as taking all three kids to church with me alone, but it wasn't too far removed.