A big kid at the movie

January 30, 2016

Several years ago an animated movie about wildland firefighters was released.

My husband was working out of state on a wildfire at the time. His colleagues were hosting an event outside of the movie theater, giving out fire safety information and free movie tickets.

I felt it was my patriotic duty to take our toddler to see the show. He was not quite two years old at the time, and he lost interest after 20 minutes.

It’s one thing when they are giving away free passes. Movie tickets are too expensive to buy if you aren’t sure you’re going to make it through the whole show.

So we didn’t take him back to the movies for a long time.

By now our youngest is well beyond three. He watched enviously as his older brother went to off to the movies, and begged to go along.

We explained that he couldn’t bring toy cars and play when he got bored, like he does when we watch movies at home.

We explained that movie theaters are really dark and kind of loud (two things he does not usually enjoy).

He could not be deterred. He wanted in on the Big Kid action.

When movie day finally arrived, you’d have thought it was Christmas morning. It seemed like an eternity until 1:00 in the afternoon.

Our boy likes to be comfortable. He’s a sweat pants kind of guy.

He’s only worn jeans maybe three or four times in his entire life, usually for family photos.

I learned a long time ago to simply not fight the battle. He won’t die from wearing sweats everywhere he goes, even to church and holiday functions.

And so it was a surprise to us when, as we were putting on our shoes to leave for the movie, he insisted on wearing jeans.

We dug out a pair that were several inches too short and hurriedly changed him.

When he was dressed he gazed with a satisfied smile at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m a Big Kid!” he said proudly.

He sat between my husband and me with his little legs sticking straight out into the aisle.

He did not cry when he was almost swallowed by his aggressive folding theater seat.

During a quiet lull after a particularly intense action sequence, he asked very loudly, “What happened to the daddy dinosaur, Mom?”

He was embarrassed when the people in front of him turned and smiled. He didn’t utter another word.

I watched more of him during the movie than I did the show.

I watched him eat popcorn without tearing his eyes from the screen. I watched him laugh out loud, and scrunch his brows in worry.

I watched him, a tiny little boy man, with Velcro tennis shoes and jeans two inches too short, and my heart ached with the agony of love.

After the movie ended he declared, “I like going to the movies!”

He quietly refused to hold my hand when we crossed the street back to our car, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed when I tried to take his hand.

I didn’t push the issue. I knew he wouldn’t rush out into the street. After all, he is a Big Kid now.

This article first appeared in the Lewistown News-Argus and the Sidney (Mont.) Herald on January 30, 2016.