Last night, we were all sitting around in the living room babbling about random stuff, like we do, and while Mom and Ginny and Jamie and I were talking, Sam kept trying to break in with something she had to say.
“Guys. Guys. Guys. Listen. Guys. Listen. Guys. Guys,” she kept saying. This is a typical attention-getting method at my house – we’re talkers, and we always talk all over each other, and you’ve got to bust in if you’re going to get to say something before you forget it entirely, or the moment has passed.
Finally we notice that she’s talking, and we’re like, “Okay, WHAT?” thinking that she must have something important to say since she hadn’t given up yet. So we gave her our full attention, and after all that buildup, here’s what she says:
“Think about how awesome it would be to be a fetus.”
So we all crack up, like “you went through all that just to tell us THAT?” and she’s like “no, no, seriously. You get to swim around all day, you don’t have to worry about eating or pooping, you don’t have to do anything, the only person you have to worry about is your mom. That would be awesome.”
She had clearly been considering this very carefully during the entire time that we were all jabbering about some random topic or another. And, you know, we decided that she does have a point.
It’s times like these that I again vow to buy a tiny tape recorder and carry it with me at all times so I can transcribe these conversations for your reading pleasure. I fear I don’t quite capture their hilarity when paraphrasing.
And, seriously, it seems like everyone I know is buying a house, getting married, having a baby, or going through some other major life change. This morning I arrived at work to find an email from an old high school friend who is both a)having a baby and b)graduating from medical school this year. Sometimes it makes me feel like I’m really behind on life-building or whatever.
Anyway. Also, yesterday I received The Secret of NIMH from Netflix, and I was so insanely excited about it that I started watching it last night before I went to bed. As a child, I loved this movie, but was also terrified by it. It’s been years and years since I saw it, and I only got about twenty minutes into it last night before going to sleep, so I don’t remember exactly why it frightened me so much when I was little, but I’ll get back to you on that.
Oh – also, no one else in my family was nearly as excited about this as I was. I seriously thought my sisters would be all freaked out about it too, so before Sam got home last night I was all, “Ginny, Ginny, Ginny, guess what I got on Netflix?” and she asked what, and I’m like, “THE SECRET OF NIMH!” and Ginny’s flat response was, “Yeah, I’m not really a fan.”
So I was all hurt and bummed out.
And then when Sammi got home, I did it again – “Hey Sam, hey Sam, guess what I got on Netflix?” and she asked what, and I’m like, “THE SECRET OF NIMH!” and Sam says, “What? I’ve never heard of that.”
So of course everyone in my family laughs at me, and Ginny tells Sam that it’s the movie about the sick field mouse and the crazy smart rats and Sammi goes, “OH, yeah, I remember that!” and I’m like “Isn’t it AWESOME?!” and she says, “Yeah, but it’s called The Secret of Nymph, you retard.”
Which allowed Sammi to be the butt of all jokes as Ginny says, “Well, maybe the porn version is called The Secret of Nymph,” and Mom and I both tell Sam that NIMH actually stands for something, but we just can’t remember what it is.
Who’s the retard now, SAMMI?