Post #5 Baby, Close Your Eyes

This weekend my brain is a tad slow. I will blame the four day forced captivity after the Dallas area was hit with a true winter storm, ice, snow, freezing cold and all, making it impossible for us native and adoptive Texans to venture out into the world. So schools closed and fortunately the lovely company for which I work shut operations for three of these past four days.
So my daughter, dog Lola and I stayed put at home not going out once, pretending it was cool to stay home in our jammies and, yes, I confess, we skipped a day and didn't shower. I wish I was, but I'm not that type of creative mother that can improvise ways to make time pass quickly by. I avidly read about other mothers who bake, cook, sing, dance and play with their kids. But, I repeat, I am not. What I did do was break down and allowed my seventh grader to watch The Social Network on demand with me, just making her turn around and close her eyes during the inappropriate scenes for a twelve year old.
That's what my parents used to do with my little sister Irma and me when we were my Valentina's age. Back in Yuba City where we were raised there was one movie theater that featured movies in Spanish (Tower Theater) in the neighboring town of Marysville. I don't think that in the early and mid-seventies there was a rating system for Spanish-language movies that were brought into the States, so the adults were in charge of deciding to bring their children or not.
My parents opted to take us. But as soonn as the hero started kissing the heroine on the neck, and things got too steamy, papi and mami would give Irma and me money and ordered us to go buy popcorn, candy and soda, which we happily did. We had not an inkling about what was going on the big screen, nor were we curious about finding out either, but we would giggle and go have our fill of sweets.
You would hope that as a better educated individual, my husband and I would have figured out a better system, but here I am almost four decades later doing the same thing my parents did. Although uncomfortable as my daughter feels with inappropriate scenes she beats me to the punch and excuses herself to go to the restroom. Pity, if she would wait a couple of seconds more, I'd give her my debit card.