We got to the theater 5 minutes after the show had started. It was dark. Baby Girl isn't exceptionally afraid of the dark. She's much more afraid when cartoon characters crash their skateboards than she is of the dark. We were there to see "Toy Story 3" which we'd already seen before. But who can get enough of Woody, Buzz, Slinky and Barbie for that matter? I had popped popcorn to smuggle in. This theater had an ice cream parlor in it.

We had left Little Man at home with Daddy-o. Girls Rule and Boys Drool type deal. She was going to get to sit on my lap and we'd whisper to each other that we liked Mrs. Potatohead's violet eyeshadow and yellow earrings. All of the tension over having to share me with a sibling would dissolve into thin, dark, movie theater air.

All of this is to say that I was going for Mother of the Year, or at least membership in the Mother of the Month club.

Until.

I couldn't tell you what.

Only that I accidentally bumped Baby Girl's leg on a chair when we were being seated.

TORRENTIAL TEARS. OVER THE TEARS IN A BARREL. FEMA WOULD FEAR THE DAM BREAKING ON THESE TEARS.

We sit down. It's dark. The Pixar short is playing.

I WANNNNNA GOO HOOOOOOME. NANA! DADDY! I WANT DAAADDYYYYYYYY!!!

I quiet her. Stuff some popcorn in her mouth. She'll be into it once she sees the "Toy Story" trademark.

I WANT GEORGE! I WANNA GO HOME!

We march back out to the car to get Curious George. Why would I not bring George into the movie theatre? Why would George not want to meet Woody? Duh, Mama K.

We use the loo.

We return to our other seats.

There are deep breaths. There is talk about how Andy is leaving for college and how Woody and Buzz need to get back before Andy leaves for college.

I WANNA GO HOME.

Somewhere from the back of the theatre, the voice of someone who wants to rightfully watch the movie for which he paid his hard-earned ten moneys.

SO GO HOME!

Fifteen minutes later...

We do.

We drive home.

But not before we stopped for a pizza moon.

Which is best eaten with 3D glasses on.