I’m so tired! I have only myself to blame. At 46, I really shouldn’t go to a midnight premier. I don’t like to do much of anything past about 10 o’clock. But it’s The Hobbit, my all-time favorite book. More importantly, a couple of my daughters begged me to take them. Now, I have to backtrack slightly on that statement because I realized this week that I’ve been replaced.
My oldest and I started a little tradition of going to these things a few years ago even though they wreak havoc on an old man’s body. My standing policy is that when one of the teenagers actually wants to be seen with the old man in public, I pretty much drop everything and go. I’ve been told these times won’t last forever…and now I know.
A few days ago, daughter #2 reminded me to buy tickets to The Desolation of Smaug so they wouldn’t sell out. Naturally, I went to the eldest to see if it was worth the extra cost to view it in 3D and she very courteously informed me that her boyfriend had already bought tickets for the two of them. Oh, how I wished I could have been hobbit-sized right then so I could slink out of the room unnoticed. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect her to stay a little girl forever and D-boy is a really good kid. But that moment felt like a giant pair of scissors severed some cord that she’s more prepared to cut than I am. It’s good though. It’s good. Really, it’s good.
Her sister and I got excited, bought tickets and had a great time. Turns out, the four of us were in the same theater and all sat together. The movie was excellent. I highly recommend it, even though it seemed surprisingly short to the guy who snored through a few scenes. They punched me awake a couple of times – but didn’t need to when Smaug came on screen. The animation detail, demonic voice, and movement of the dragon is amazing. It’s one of those movie-going moments when I scratch my head and wonder how in the world they made him. He’s almost as frightening as the line of boyfriends soon to come in and out of my home and take my four little girls away.
I’d better brush up on my fire-breathing…