Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Thanks for the Memories...

Why is it that most people think it would be good to revisit their childhood? It’s that great “back when I was a kid” when about which I am referring.

“I want to go back to my tree climbing days.”
“Dodge ball was the greatest game invented!”
“I wish I could relive my high school days.”
“______ was the greatest movie. Why don’t they make them like that anymore?”

What we forget is all the trials involved with everything we can remember. For example:

We forget that we were scraped by all the tree bark and we broke our arm when we fell out of the tree.

We fail to remember all the black eyes and bruises that we acquired when the bully who kept aiming at our heads, trying to prove that he really could launch a rocket with his own two hands.

We pass over all the pimples, complex calculus homework, worries about dates/friends, stupid rivalries and insecurities that we suffered in the halls of that school.

Movies are never the same as when we first saw them. Take this weekend’s movie for example – Pippi Longstocking.

I remember loving all the parts with candy and cake and pies. That girl could eat anything and not get sick. She rode a horse (how cool is that!) and was as strong as 10 men put together. She never had a parent there to boss her around. It is a child’s dream fantasy.

I rented the movie because I wanted my kids to have the same fun experience.

What I found out was that my memory isn’t as good as I thought it was. (There Paul; I said it out loud – so to speak.)

Did you know that the entire movie is DUBBED? I don’t remember the words not matching the lips. Did you know that every adult is portrayed as an idiot? Did you know that Pippi was a terribly wasteful person who has no idea how to conserve a thing, i.e., money, food, etc?

Did you know that she is the biggest BRAT in the world? She had no respect for anyone. She really did do what she wanted with no thought of others, consequences be darned! And she chose to be with two friends rather than to be with the father who loved and adored her, even though she was whining about being away from her Papa the entire movie.

Mr. Right and I were rolling our eyes the entire time, believing our kids to be bored out of their gourds. We offered another movie, thinking they shouldn’t have to suffer through it because we had misconstrued memories. (They refused the offer and watched the entire 90 waste-of-time minutes.)

We made our apologies afterwards, stating that the movie wasn’t the way we remembered it to be. They just stared at us blankly, trying to figure out what we were talking about.

The next day the kids were no where to be found. I went downstairs to the basement and there they were, watching it again and laughing at all the mischief occurring throughout the film. They loved it.

I guess they need to have their own memories to remember incorrectly too.

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