Taking a two-year-old to the movie theater is a big waste of money. Paying for a babysitter would have cost the same amount as our two tickets combined, but for some reason, I thought we could have a “family” activity together. If family activity means me sitting at the very front, my hubby sitting at the very back and the other three kids occupying the seats we started with while our toddler ran amok, then we accomplished our family time.
Our movie began with advertisements and then previews. During the advertisements, my hubby decided to take the two-year-old and let her run up and down the aisle, burning off some energy before the show actually started. Sounds great, right? Unfortunately, she decided running up the aisle was really fun. And she didn’t want to quit. We finally got her to sit after the previews. Until the snacks ran out.
“No, honey, we’re out,” I said. “No more.”
“Hi-chew, Hi-chew, Hi-chew!”
After a bit more yelling, she ran to a row or two in front of us. We then discovered that neither one of us could see her. So I went to the front and hubby went to the back. I finally found her in between the first and second row. And, she’d made a surprise for me. After changing her, we came back and I thought I might get her to sit down. But no such luck. She had made a friend in the bathroom, another two-year-old girl who happened to be in the same movie.
My two-year-old kept running up and down the aisle, roaring loudly. (The movie was Monsters University, so she was only imitating what she was hearing.) Then, at the back, she found her little partner in crime.
I wasn’t at the back, but hubby told me what happened. She and the other two-year-old found a way to liberate themselves from the theater. They worked together to open the door and get into the lobby. I figure the conversation went something like this:
“Help me push open this door. We’ll be free! Free I tell you!” (Blah, dooba, ricka door, fwee.)
“Okay. We can make a break for the candy counter.” (‘K, go troo buh treat!)
“Yes! Perfect! We’re so short no one will notice! And who would suspect two cute little girls of such diabolical treachery?” (Yeah! Go, blecka cute roosha evil, ha! )
Hubby said they giggled manically as they pushed open the door to the lobby. He got ours and the parents of the other girl picked her up before she got far.
I spent the last twenty minutes of the movie out in the lobby with two-year-old while she happily turned the wheel of a driving video game. Still, I have to wonder, what could she and her little co-conspirator done had they not been caught? The world may never know.