In short, Nathan has been spoiling for a showdown. And Friday night, he got it.
As I mentioned earlier, Friday night our whole family went to see Monsters vs. Aliens. Steve, Nathan and I were actually thinking about going to another movie that Sarah didn't want to see; however, we figured that since she had just graduated from seventh grade that day, we should do something of a celebratory nature that included her. (Because we're nice like that.)
In the process of making our movie night plans, it occured to me that after months and months of being unmercifully teased by my son, the time had come to throw down the gauntlet.
I said, "Nathan, how about if you and I drive to the theater separately. After the first movie, Dad and Sarah can go back home and you can I can stay for the 9:15 showing of the movie we had wanted to see in the first place."
Nathan stared at me as if I had just lost what was left of my mind. He looked a little quizzical and a lot worried, obviously wondering if his aged, decrepit mother had taken a sudden leave of her aged and decrepit senses.
He asked, "Mom, do you think you can really stay up that late?"
I said, "Just watch me!"
And so, according to our plan, Steve and Sarah went home at 8:30 which left Nathan and me with a little time to kill before the second movie started. We decided to walk about a block down the street from the theater to a little book store/coffee shop that features live music on Friday nights. Here's a picture of the shop. (Taken in the daytime, obviously. And yes, that IS Snowy's head, lurking in the foreground.)
There was a delightful group of five fellas in there last Friday evening, playing country bluegrass music. The youngest guy might have been in his late fifties, and the rest were at least in their 60's and 70's. It was so refreshing to watch people making music with that kind of simplicity and joy. They weren't worrying about their light show, or CD sales, or publicity tours. Shoot, they weren't even worried about playing all the notes right.
They were just five guys, having fun, grinning from ear to ear and obviously enjoying the simple pleasure of playing music--in a small town, in a small coffee shop, in front of a small audience.
Nate and I sat and listened to several songs and then walked back up the block. I teasingly asked him while we were walking if I needed to stay five paces behind him so that no one would know he was out on a Friday night with his mom. He said he thought he would be fine. (smile)
Just to give you another glimpse of small town life, here is the theater we were going to. Our family sees most of our movies at the Howell since tickets are just two dollars. It's a quaint, old timey place that always makes me feel like I've stepped a few decades back in time.
As Nathan and I were standing in the ticket line out on the sidewalk I looked across the street and had to smile just a little bit as an old memory hit. (Old ladies tend to ponder old memories, you know.) I had told Nathan this story a time or two in the past, but standing right there with him, I just couldn't keep from repeating it. (Old ladies tend to repeat their old memories a lot, too!)
Here's how the memory goes:
Almost twenty years ago, Steve and I were youth and music pastors at the same church he just resigned from last November. After being on staff at the church a couple years, we made the decision to go on the road with my brother and sister-in-law as full time musicians. (Where we stayed for FIFTEEN years!)
Since we figured we would need some promo materials, we made arrangements to have a publicity photo taken. And the place we chose was this photography shop that just happened to be right across the street from the theater.
What made that photo shoot especially memorable was that I was three months pregnant with Nathan at the time and therefore dealing with lots of pregnancy nausea. The guy would take a few shots and then I would run down the hall to be be sick in the bathroom. Then he'd take a few more and off I'd go again.
It was a really weird feeling to be standing across the street from that same shop almost twenty years later with the big, tall, wonderful guy who was a result of that pregnancy. Talk about precious memories!
At any rate, we finished reminiscing, bought the tickets, watched the movie, and exited the theater at about 11 pm. I was pleased to note that Nathan was yawning and I was still feeling perky! Ha! I was showing HIM a thing or two about partying late at night!
As we drove home together discussing the movie, he suddenly announced that he was hungry. No surprise there. We went through the drive through at McDonald's where he treated me to anything I wanted--as long as it was from the dollar menu! (A man after my own heart.) We took our dollar treasures back to the house, and sat at the kitchen table to eat and talk. And talk. And talk. We ended up talking so long, it was 1 am before I finally made it to bed.
But people, I DID it!
I stayed up past 9 pm!
I hung out with my college son!
I didn't fall asleep and/or become incoherent at 9:01!
I was immensely PROUD of my middle-aged self!
Of course, the next day I felt like I'd been in a wrestling match with a 300-pound armadillo but that was okay. My son had been impressed by his mom's amazing ability to be a night owl and I had been impressed by my son's amazing ability to make me feel young again.
It was a great night for a showdown.
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On the subject of movies, we use a great website that reviews movies from a family perspective and lets you know exactly what each movie contains as far as sex, language, violence, etc. The Smith Family highly recommends it and uses it frequently.
And now a few questions for class discussion.
Are you a morning person or a night person? If you're a morning person, why do you like the morning better? If you're a night person, why do you like the night better?
Does age make a difference for you? In other words, as you got older, did early bedtime look more appealing? I just need someone to tell me I'm not alone here in my desire for 9 pm bedtimes!
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