Now that we’re nearing the third trimester, your mother and I are taking time to empty out our baby bucket list. Or is it fill the bucket? I don’t understand this metaphor. Screw it. Plainly speaking, we are doing things now that we won’t be able to do once you’re born.
From all the intel we can gather, when you’re born, for about three to four months, your mother and I cease to be human beings and become robots watching over a crying, ravenous poop factory. New parents don’t have much of a life for a while, so we’re taking time now to revel in the last vestiges of life B.B (Before Blue).
Last night, we saw a movie. Gravity. It’s spectacular. A shoe-in for a Best Picture nomination. It’s about an astronaut who becomes stranded in space, and for 90 minutes does everything she can to survive while the universe tries to murder her. It looks stunning, and pulls the rare trick of matching its incredible cinematography with an equally riveting story.
Your mother and I are going to miss movies. A lot of memories are tied up there, all the way back to our first kiss. When I missed your mother’s mouth after feverishly diving in for a quick peck after seeing Twilight. That’s probably a whole other story in itself, but for now, just know we’re going to miss movies. At least until you’re old enough to go with us. To help me through, what I keep reminding myself is that in 2015, right when you’re about two years old, Star Wars: Episode VII comes out. I’m thinking this will be your baptism into the wonderful world of cinema. You’re so lucky. I really can’t wait to introduce you.
They make incredible movies now. Superman destroyed most of New York this summer and for the most part, America yawned. Adults are simply too spoiled by how amazing modern movies have become, but you, Blue, you are not yet spoiled. Appreciate that.
You are in for a treat even if you’re not impressed by movies, Blue. Seriously. If you ever go to a movie, and somehow get bored with the actual movie, just watch your mother…watching the movie. Her facial expressions, and her tendency to be an “outward thinker”, make for entertaining evenings at the box office. I hope you have her wonder in you.
And if you don’t, well, at least be economical like your gonggong (grandfather). He likes movies, too. In fact, he likes them so much that he typically strolls in for a Saturday matinee, sees one movie, strolls out of the theater, and then casually walks into another movie while the workers are distracted, busily selling their popcorn. Two for the price of one.
Even though it’s wrong, I have to admit…it’s fun. Your gonggong gets a thrill out of it, so when he asks you to go see a movie, expect to see two. Don’t worry, Blue. I know the score.
Your gonggong’s mischievousness was passed on to his daughter. Your mother doesn’t theater hop. Instead, she gets her kicks smuggling food into the theater. When we saw Gravity, she snuck in a bag of cheese cuffs and a bag of peanut butter pretzels, neatly tucked away underneath napkins and away from the prying eyes of ticket takers. When we saw Elysium this summer, she managed to fit two philly cheesesteak sandwiches in the bottom of her bowling bag purse. But the best was The Hobbit. Last winter, when we saw it, she very deliberately cooked dumplings at the house. Then she packed them away in a Tupperware container. We sat there in the theater, with 3d glasses on and metal forks clinking, watching the movie in our brand new living room. For a few hours, we weren’t just watching hobbits. We WERE hobbits.
So be prepared, Blue. This is our new family tradition. Forget popcorn and nachos. When we see Star Wars, we’re bringing in steak and mashed potatoes.