Last Friday we decided to have a movie night. Both big kids ended up being off with friends so it was Jeff and I with our two younger guys. We made the popcorn and piled on the couch. Even though I have a daughter who works at Hollywood Video AND I work at the library, where you can get FREE movies, we decided to get a pay per view movie. (long story, you don't want to hear it)
We flip, flip, flipped through all the choices and came down to three that looked promising. After voting and discussing for over 15 minutes, it was decided. We punched in the password and soon the latest Terminator movie was playing on our TV.
(yes, Arnold was in it (naked, with strategically placed smoke), which led me to wonder how he fit the filming into this busy schedule of being governor and all)
I don't generally 'get' these movies. Bourne Identies, Matrix adventures...I watch to admire the special effects and try to cling on to any dialogue that might suggest a story line. But I really really wanted to spend time with all 'my boys' who were home and on my couch, so I snuggled in for the long haul.
About halfway through I began to think about my sister in Dallas, who has three teenage girls and zero boys. I generally can't imagine the hormone cloud that must be circling their house and am thankful for my nest that is mostly lined with testosterone.
But Friday night I began to see one of the perks of having daughters. When the movie was paused for a quick bathroom break I just had to make one comment to my precious husband. It needed to be said, needed to be acknowledged.
"You know, sweetie," I said in my sweetest voice, "if we had had one boy and then three girls, tonight would have turned out very differently. Instead of me suffering through a Terminator movie, you'd be suffering through a perfectly lovely Jennifer Aniston flick."
The price you pay, the price you pay.