Early this afternoon as I was getting ready to meet my friend Tom for lunch, my mom asked me if I wanted to join her and Dad for a movie later in the afternoon. Minutes later, she was on the phone and I whispered, "Is that Dad?"
Then she told Dad to hang on and asked if I wanted to ask him something.
I did, in fact.
"Can Tommy come to the movie too?" I asked.
(This was the 5-year-old in me.)
I went to lunch with Tommy, where we complained about job searching, crankiness as a result of break-up withdrawal, Tom's business plan. You know, grown up, twenty-something topics.
Then we went to see a movie with my 'rents, which I suppose is a mature, 25-year-old activity. Seeing an indie British film with your parents, on a Wednesday afternoon? Sure. We'll call that grown up.
I should probably be fully honest in my disclosure here and mention that after some chatty settling into my movie seat, as Tommy and I exited the theater to get popcorn Dad told me to run off some of my energy before returning to the theater.
So I relapsed for a moment into 5-year-old Bailey. See what I mean? Who am I?!
Okay, I will move us along to the 85-year-old portion of this post shortly, but first we will pause for a movie review.
Today we saw The King's Speech, with Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, and Helena Bonham Carter. It is the true story about King George VI and the speech therapist who helped him overcome his struggle with stuttering when he suddenly succeeded his living brother as king during WWII.
Friends, I cannot express enough how much you should go see this film. It was excellent. All four of us loved it. It was a wonderful story of friendship, it was funny, it was touching, terrifically acted. Seriously.
GO. See. It.
And yes, Riley Francis, that was Mr. Desplat's work you heard in the trailer (for those of you who breezed past it without watching the trailer, march your mouse back up to that link and watch it! This is the bossy 5-year-old speaking!). And you would L-O-V-E love the soundtrack as much as you will love the film itself when you
go. See. It.
Okay. Seriously. Go see it. Please. This is coming from a girl who has little patience for movies, and rarely solicits them.
Okay now moving on to the 85-year-old portion of my day.
This evening, while Dad watched TV after dinner, I continued work on my current cross stitch project.
I have been suffering from a mysterious muscle ache in my right hand and it occurred to me just as of late that it could be the result of cross stitching too much.
Last night I also cross stitched in the living room, while Mom and Dad dozed in front of the TV, and BooBoo slept on Mom.
The other day Patrick called and asked what I was doing for the afternoon.
"Well, I just made some tea, I'm gonna cross stitch, and take some ibuprofen because I'm kind of sick."
"That's a grandma afternoon!" he told me. "The highlight of your day is taking some Advil!"
Yes, Patrick, yes.
Well, I quite like my age-confused existence. And why am I not ready to go back to school, aside from the fact that the books and constant reading and writing will soon loom over me again?
Because I'm not done hanging out with my parents, who are my friends. Or our cats.