Ordinary lesson 1: My sons have an underwear problem.....

I refuse to go see a movie unless the critics tell me it is ok to see one. I am also going through this "alone" phase, and that includes movie theaters.  I don't want to make small talk with some older guy my friends set me up with and he doesn't know jack about cinema anyway.   I don't want to talk about who the best first/third grade teachers are going to be next year.  I don't want to giggle. I just want to watch my movie, analyze the hell out of it,  and then go home.

I felt this way about The Avengers.  I rarely go see superhero movies in the movie theater. Now that I think on it, I had never been to see a superhero movie..wait-in 8th grade the batman movie with Jack Nicholson came out.  That was the last time I saw a superhero in a theater, 1989.

But this Avenger film was 93% fresh.   How could that be?  Should I give this movie two and a half hours of my undivided attention and free time?  There was something about it that was oddly familiar anyway.

Let's examen the cast..Scarlett Johannason, Mark Ruffalo, Samuel L. Jackson, Gwenyth Paltrow, Robert Downey Jr.  Fine...I can spend an evening with these people.  Even if it isn't at the art cinema where I have spent time with all of them before (Ghost World, The Kids are All Right, Pulp Fiction, Sliding Doors, Two Girls and a Guy-if you have seen all of those you have a place in my heart).


Indeed I was entertained-I hope the comic book people appreciate my effort. 

Later, as I'm folding laundry, I realize I see these guys over and over again every day.

Little boys and their underwear

When it comes to getting dressed, little boys take pride in what goes on first.  They can't just grab underwear, they have to look to see who is on it.  I have broken up many a fight about which Superhero is the best.  I am more inclined to go with Superman-I loved Smallville.

The other day I had laid out their clothes like I do every day-and there was an issue with my underwear choice.

"No, mom, not Phineas and Ferb...where is Captain America?  Where is The Hulk?"

I did not have the right underwear. 

I try to smooth it over:

"Oh guys man, I'm so sorry I didn't switch the laundry over.  Tomorrow, OK?  You two love Phineas and Ferb-they are almost as creative as you."

Yes, I kissed up to my six and three year old. Do you blame me?

They looked and acted like I had just killed a puppy. I swear I ruined their lives over underwear that hopefully nobody sees outside of this house. 

There was a long pause, and in my house long pauses are bad because that means thoughts are being thought. 

Kenneth was the first to speak.

"It was the run." 

He said this in a simple matter of fact way.  Like an adult.

"Excuse me?"

"You went for a run and didn't flip the wash and now we don't have our favorite underwear."

Lowell catches on to this quickly.

"Yeah, that's what it was."

Then the two of them hatch a plan-why do I have two of them again?  Their sister doesn't care what I do.

"That's it! No more runnning for you!" 

"Yep-we are going to be so bad for the sitter you won't be able to run!"

I proceded with all the stuff moms say about how some boys just have white underwear.  Some kids are lucky they have Spiderman instead of Superman on a Monday morning. Some kids are blessed just to know the underwear is clean and hole free, but not my sons.

There is no way I am going to give up my morning runs while I have a sitter to come over because I forgot to dry the Flash.  The only person I care about going faster than a speeding bullet is me. In Hartford. In October.

I'm googling Wonder Woman underwear for the day of the race.  The boys can be whatever superhero they want-they just to need to lay it out the night before, after they put it in the dryer themselves.

Now I'm ready for Prometheus...alone again...