This past weekend was the Best Weekend Ever and I think it all boiled down to weather. The weather was perfect. Absolute meteorological perfection. 72. No humidity. Light northwesterly breeze. No bugs. Perfection.
We kicked off Friday night by going to see Ironman, and i just have three words: Robert Downey Jr. Yum. (Okay, so I added a fourth.) Although it was a bit violent in spots, I absolutely loved it. So much so, I dreamed I made out with him that night. I recall the following exchange of words: I know you're married, and I'm married, but call me!
Then on Saturday, Cole convinced me to take him and a buddy to see the new Indiana Jones movie. (Yes, my cumulative dollars spent at the AMC Rosedale 14 likely topped $100 with that extra popcorn run halfway through the Crystal Skull. Ouch!) I liked the movie okay. I kept hoping Robert Downey Jr. would show up. (SPOILER ALERT: He does not.)
But perhaps the most memorable moment happened as Cole, his little friend, and me were making our way to the theater, hands full of sodas, heavily buttered popcorn and an assortment of previously purchased candy contraband stuffed discreetly into various pockets and purses.
We came up to this kid, who was maybe around 15 or 16, talking very loudly (which is the ONLY way teen-agers can talk these days in public) on his cell phone. Right as we passed by him, I heard him say the following into the receiver: "Where are my sexy bitches?"
The feminist in me wanted to deliver a swift, decisive backhand to his lower jaw, but the 12-year-old boy in me won out, and I let out a quick, nervous chuckle. I was hoping that Cole and his buddy didn't hear, because that's just not something precious little 8-year-old ears should hear. And I should know, because I have an entire collection of my own verbal nuggets that I can guarantee you Coleman should not have heard over the years.
So I quickly compose myself, and casually glance down at Cole to see if it registered. He looks up at me and starts to giggle the giggle of a boy who KNOWS he shouldn't have heard, but can't deny this one fact: that was pretty damned funny.
We both exchanged knowing glances and smiles, and moved on.
Later that night, we were playing another high stakes game of family Yahtzee at the kitchen table, and I decided to share the story with Aidan and Dan. Clearly, it wasn't as funny to them.
Soon after I was working on my Four of a Kind, and I decided to go for my sixes, when it just kind of slipped out: WHERE ARE MY SEXY SIXES?
Cue hysterical laughter of boy and mom.
And now, it will never NOT be funny.