Yesterday was full of fun adventures.
A birthday party with friends.
Dinner at Burger King.
Running errands around town.
And to top it all off, Jason and I thought we’d surprise the boys and Marissa with hitting a movie—opening weekend of Ironman!
A few facts:
- · Ironman is Jordan’s FAVORITE hero. Ever.
- · Movies are supposed to be fun.
- · Jordan was recently diagnosed with an anxiety disorder.
- · Brothers stick together through anything.
Bear these things in mind as I tell you about our little surprise for the kiddos.
We finished a quick dinner at Burger King, wherein we had to drag the boys from the tunnels kicking and screaming because they had met approximately a dozen new friends who were reenacting a battle scene from GI Joe.
After said battle scene, we loaded them into the S.S. Stahl (Jason’s beastly new company vehicle) and headed across the street to the theater.
We told the kids we were going to do one more thing before we headed home.
The boys started guessing what it could be.
“Is it Disney World?” asked Jadon.
“How about cotton balls?
Are we going to buy cotton balls?” he asked.
In fact, I had no idea there was a grave need for cotton balls at our house, but I would try to get to the bottom of that mystery later.
One more guess.
“Is it pizza?
Are we going to eat pizza?”
“We just ate, Buddy,” I answered.
Silence reigned from the backseat.
We pulled into the movie theater parking lot.
And then it began.
What the ever-loving hell?
“We’re not going to the MOVIES, are weeeeee?” cried Jadon.
Jason and I looked at each other, perplexed.
Had someone recently taken them to a movie theater and tortured them without our knowledge?
Had they been forced to endure unspeakable trauma that we were unaware of?
I mean, I know they didn’t care for Frankenweenie
, but this was ridiculous.
Calmly, I turned in my seat and explained to the boys that IRONMAN!
YAY! was in theaters today and that WE, our lucky family got to go see it.
I sounded like an infomercial.
The more I talked, the more they cried.
By the time we had parked, Jordan was curled up in the fetal position in the center seat.
Jason turned off the ignition, and everyone except for Jordan got out of the car.
We calmly explained that he could not stay in the car by himself.
He HAD to go watch Ironman, dammit.
We were going to have FUN.
He morphed from the fetal position into more of a turtle position, curling into his hoodie so that no part of him was able to be seen.
He’s sort of a skinny kid, so this is very doable for him.
Jason and I looked at each other across opposing doors.
What to do?
Everyone else was standing in the parking lot.
My purse was weighing me down, what with all the movie candy contraband I was planning on sneaking in.
“Just grab him,” Jason said.
“I can’t just grab him.
He’ll be traumatized,” I replied.
So there our little turtle sat in the backseat of the giant car.
Eventually, we all loaded back into the boat and headed for the house.
No Ironman for us.
Anxiety won out over his favorite hero in the history of EVER.
We have some work to do.
As we drove from the parking lot, the crying began to subside, and Jadon, ever the supportive brother, said from his post alongside Jordan, “You know, you should not do that to your own kid.”
Yeah, someone call DFS.
Tell ‘em we tried to take our kid out for a fun day at the movies.