The Things I Get

So Special K and I have been walking every week. Last week she asked me if there was something she and I could do together for my birthday. I suggested going to see a movie. She liked the idea, so we went tonight to see Slumdog Millionaire. And while I'm usually Miss Movie Preview, I have to admit, I hadn't seen this one. 

What we did have was countless glowing recommendations from close friends and family to go see it, along with a generic description of a boy who grows up in poverty (somehow that word isn't strong enough after seeing it) in India to become a contestant on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" and is questioned (replace with tortured) by the police to prove that he wasn't cheating through some incredible (traumatically violent)  life stories . 

Special K and I can only stomach so much violence against kids, let alone domestic violence against women before both of us feel like walking out. Thank god there wasn't any violence against animals.

I was ready to leave after the first 20 minutes. Apparently, so was she. The only thing that kept us in our seats -- we didn't seem to talk loudly enough for the other one to understand the other wanted to leave.

So we sat through it. All the way to the Bollywood ending, which people raved about. And when I think Bollywood, I think about the scene that played when the credits rolled. So I had no idea how we were going to get from multiple really, really bad places to a funny, laughing dancing place.

We should have left. We should have gotten coffee. Because now it's midnight and I'm wide-awake and it's all I can do to not go upstairs and wake up my boy and hold him. Seriously, I think I'll stick to Adventureland. 

I can deal with teen angst and corn dogs.

Lesson learned: Watch the previews and ask about violence levels before going.