Last night I decided to treat my kids to a movie night at home. I would like to call this a tradition, but I am hardly vigilant about baths so for argument's sake we will just call it a movie night whim. So as the popcorn was emitting possible deadly fumes from it's microwaveable bag, I went through our Disney movie collection. I was doing this in the hopes that my son would pass right over Cinderella. Not a chance! For the third time in a row, he reached for that worn case with it's popular princess on the cover. I tried distracting him with Shrek but to no avail. As I popped in the tape (yes, I said tape as in VHS tape) it occurred to me that he might want to BE Cinderella rather than just BANG her. My mind flashed to scenes of us walking with arms locked giggling about men. He is trying to talk me out of purchasing "old lady shoes" and gingham kitchen curtains with patterns of roosters on them. Not a bad vision to have except for the rooster curtains. If I have learned one thing from the gay people that are in my life, it's that "being gay" was not a choice for them. It was just the way they woke up from puberty.
By the end of the movie, all he could talk about were the animals, and how pretty Cinderella was. And all I could talk about was how much therapy she might need after living her whole life unloved by her step-mother and step-sisters and how running off and getting married to staive off the pain of her Father's death would come back to bite her in the ass one day. My son gave me a puzzled look, and I pretended like I didn't just say that. It's amazing to me how very different our perceptions change as adults. All this time, I had him pegged for wanting to be a princess and he just wanted to see some mice sing, dance, and dress humans. As of 4pm today there has been no mention of Cinderella or her rodent friends. Tomorrow, who knows. Sleeping Beauty anyone?
