We took the kids to see Toy Story 3 today. Awesome. Really, it was one of the best films I’ve seen in a
long time, and Dave and I both wept at the end. (Looking at me curiously, Billy said, “Mama has a hurchy eye.”)
My problem is with the pre-show. We are a well-oiled machine, with a meticulously timed schedule. I don’t waste one minute more than I have to on the pre-movie countdown, because I have only a certain amount of hidden snacks and juice in the diaper bag, and they have to keep the kids happy for the whole film.
Once the lights went down and the trailers started, I was pulling out raisins and graham crackers and goldfish and thermoses as quietly as I could when Billy announced loudly, “We’re having a picnic!” Hey, it’s not my fault my kid is a picky eater and would rather eat crayons than popcorn. When they start stocking graham crackers at the snack counter, I’ll start paying the $7.50 to buy it from them … maybe.
Anyway, half an hour later, we had been sitting through previews for some of the most abysmal looking child entertainment I could imagine when Billy turned to me and said, “I want to go home.”
Yeah, I don’t blame you.
There really should be tighter controls on how many commercials they can run at the beginning of kids’ films. I used to look forward to trailers. Now I’m so exhausted by the end of them that I can rarely remember what movie we were going to see.
Luckily for us, Toy Story 3 started right about the time Billy’s patience ran out, and he loved it so much that as soon as the lights came up at the end, he shouted, “More Buzz Lightning! Fast-forward please!” (what he tells us at home when commercials come on during our DVR-ed copies of TS 1 & 2).
Toys Story 3 was great. But here’s a warning: If the previews of upcoming films are anything to go by, we parents are in for a rough few months this fall.