reel disappointment

Oliver Fancy,

There is one thing that I am kind of bummed that I probably won't be able to do with you. (Hint: it isn't marry you, though sometimes I wish I could.) It also isn't embarrass you with lame puns, (see title) because I will certainly find time and make a way to do that. When I was growing up, every summer we would go to see whatever animated Disney movie was coming out.

They would release previews in agonizing advance, allowing us to get whipped into a froth for nearly an entire year before we'd drag our parents, friends, siblings to go see it. We would then: sing all the songs after buying the cassette tapes, create synchronized swimming routines to these songs, buy the biggest stuffed animals in the likeness of the film's characters that our allowances would allow, beg for the VHS tapes of the movie for the following Christmas and watch and rewatch our favorite parts, singing along and exchanging the dialogue with our friends who had done the same.

After your Uncle Alex was born, Grandpa took me to see The Little Mermaid. I was enraptured. Ariel was beautiful, her sidekicks were hilarious, the graphics were so realistic, it was suspenseful, haunting, heartwarming. (My dad slept through most of it. Apparently, there is something exhausting about having a small child(ren) at home.) I would fan my out behind me in the bath tub, I would warble to her mermaid solos, my favorite Christmas present was an ornament of the crab character wearing a scarf and mittens and earmuffs.

The Fox and the Hound made me cry. Like hyperventilatingly sad, the kind where after the credits are done, you can't even talk about it.

101 Dalmations was a favorite. We did not have a family pet when I was younger and I became fixated on this movie, and The Aristocats due to all the dogs and cats. When my Grandma took me to 102 Dalmations, or 101 Dalmations, the live action remake, I won a tee shirt for correctly guessing the number of spots featured on a banner. (I guessed 1001, clever girl.)

The Lion King was so central to my childhood. I rented it last month to "watch" with you and though you obviously didn't understand what was going on, you seemed to like to look at the screen. (We have noticed this when strolling through the electronics section at Target--you are mesmerized by the wall of televisions. Definitely your dad's genes on that one.) I was amused, and a little embarrassed to find myself singing along. Not muttering the parts that I kind of remembered, but really singing along, fifteen years later. The Lion King was the template for many of the aforementioned home productions performed on my parents' deck at our house in Oklahoma.

Anyway, I'm sure you have skimmed this post, because you have no idea what I mean when I say VHS or cassette tapes, but maybe one day you will see these Disney movies on Blu-Ray or 3D or whatever new technology there is, and you will agree, they were a good (if not old fashioned) way to pass ninety minutes. Oh, did I say maybe? I mean you for sure will, and I will help you re-enact any old scene you set your little sights on.

Love you,
Mama