Thursday, 27 October 2016

In which Youngest saves the day

Went to the cinema the other day. Took Youngest who was very keen to see The Secret Life of Pets. I was very keen to see the latest Rom Com, but I think it's going on twenty years since I managed to see one of those. Nowadays it's Disney, Pixar or else very noisy action films where the villain has a very deep voice and the hero just stands about looking hero-like. And runs about a lot. And sweats.
Was fearfully organised, and had ordered tickets online, arriving at the cinema with fifteen minutes to spare. Perfect time allowed to collect the tickets and buy horrendously expensive popcorn and fizzy drinks.
Rather smugly arrived at ticket machine and punched in our card, which kindly spewed out our tickets.
Youngest most impressed with organisational skills. His own. This was all his plan.
Noticed that harassed mother and young daughter, aged about 5, were at the next ticket machine. Was very clear that mother had NOT pre-ordered tickets because young daughter was saying, "But Mummy, I really WANTED to see The Secret Life of Pets." Mother stabbing away at keyboard, valiantly offering other films. Daughter becoming quieter as the reality sank in of not seeing her film.
There you go, I thought uncharitably. Goes to show us mums need to be organised.
"Give them our tickets,' hissed Youngest, digging me somewhat painfully in the ribs.
I turned to him, and back to the little girl. Her face was hidden by her mother's sleeve, still desperately offering alternative films.
"Give them our tickets!" hissed Youngest again, this time close to my ear, and actually making my ear a little bit damp. "Go on, give them OUR TICKETS."
"Are you sure?" I asked. Illogically somewhat disappointed that my ultra organisational uber mother mode was going to end in giving the tickets away.
"YESSSS," hissed Youngest, getting rather agitated now, as the mother looked like she might move away.
I turned to the mother and daughter. "Excuse me, Youngest here would like you to have our tickets. We already have two, so why don't you have them?" Once I was in my stride, I was rather pleased. This was fun!
The pair looked totally taken aback. In a good way. The mother's face changed from depressed resignation to joy. "Are you sure? What will you do instead?"
"Well," said Youngest, with infinite logic, "It's a cinema. We'll go and see a film!"
We all laughed a bit. Awkwardly trying to bridge the offer with clinching the deal.
The mother was decisive and generous at the same time. "We'll pay for you to see another film," she said. "What would you like to see?"
Youngest piped up. "We could see The BFG, Mum. Shall we?"
"Brilliant," I said.
And we did.
The mother punched some more keys, and bought us our tickets. We did a swap, there in the swirly carpeted foyer, and said a fond farewell to each other.
"Thank you SO much," said the mother, looking at Youngest as if he were a total hero.
Which in her eyes he was.
"Pleasure," said Youngest. "Enjoy the film!" And he led the way across the foyer to the popcorn.
He astounds me, this boy of mine. Generous and wise. Kind and thoughtful.
And he's only twelve.
Am very proud Mother.
Especially as I'm such a mean old cow that didn't want to give the tickets away.
Glad I did, though.
The BFG was awesome!!