Ahhhhhhhhhh.......Stinky Boo....my beloved nephew. I had the pleasure of watching him on Memorial Day so Hitler could go car shopping (got into a biggum accident, car got totalled thanks to a kid running a red light who had a permit and NO licensed driver in the car with her. It was great. Hitler's okay, even though her car is in heaven now)... Anyways, Hitler needed to go car shopping, and I willingly sacrificed my first real day off (not counting jury duty) since February, to watch Boo. I'm such a good sister.
Hitler and Ava hit the dealers, and I hit Boo. I kid, I kid... I didn't hit him, I tend to smother him with loving, because I'm a very affectionate. We laughed, we played, I fed, he napped. While he napped I started Seven Pounds. With about a half hour or so to go, Mr. Boo wakes from his nap and he's all cuddly. Then tragedy strikes in the movie...the killer ending. I am hysterical. Boo, being a perceptive 21 month old, can sense there is danger with Auntie L. He brings me his fuzzy car blanket, his pacifier, and crawls into my lap and I sob, and sob, and sob. Fucking last 10 minutes of the movie kills me, as usual. But that Boo, he tried to make it all better for me. It melted my heart.
While I was being comforted I text Tuschka about my newest sob story. She asked me a very important question that only she and I will ever understand "Jimmy cry or Love Story cry?" I tell her Jimmy all the way. She felt my pain and agony.
Fucking Seven Pounds.
It was a good movie, made even better by the Boo and his acute awareness and sensitivity.
Rock out- with a fuzzy blanky and a pacifier
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