Where the Wild Things Suck

You know it’s spring when your neighbor’s giant trampoline comes flying into your yard from 3 acres away.
Mia’s come down with a nasty case of strep throat. We asked the doctor to fill a prescription for Merrick, too, since it’s only a matter of time before he gets it. They bathe together, they give each other snotty kisses, and they inspect each other’s teeth by sticking their hands in each other’s mouths. What are you gonna do? Last night was the big kindergarten play, which Mia of course missed. They’ve been practicing for it every day for the past 4 months. I’ve never seen a child more broken hearted. I cried right along with her. Thankfully she’s doing better today.
I’m doing better, too.  All my tests and scans and ultrasounds have shown me to be the picture of perfect health. I find that if I starve myself, my stomach aches aren’t nearly as bad. I’ve cut out just about all foods from my diet and I’ve stuck with one cup of very milky coffee almost every morning. Yes, it’s killing me. KILLING ME.
I’m going to my little sister’s bachelorette party in New Orleans in 2 weeks. I really could not be more excited–we’ll only be there for a day and a half, but what a fun day and a half it will be. I can’t wait to see my sisters.
And finally, I feel compelled to warn everyone who hasn’t already seen “Where the Wild Things Are”: Never has a movie sucked more supremely than this one. Seriously. It’s horrible–so horrible. I expected a mischievous, cute little kindergarten-sized Max. I expected a lot more wild rumpusing. Instead, the Wild Things weren’t even wild, and Max is a 12-year-old emotionally-disturbed headcase who is WAAAAY too old to be wearing (much less fitting into) a wolf suit. Thank you, Spike Jonze! If I wanted to learn about child psychology, I would have gone to 4 more boring years of college. Instead, I sat through your miserable movie–the entire thing–thinking that at any minute, it would show at least 1% of the book’s original awesomeness. Luckily, the book is wonderful enough to overcome the movie. It would’ve been better served by cheesy 3D-animation. And who was in charge of the soundtrack? The music made me want to go out, buy a shotgun, and blow a hole through my TV. But I probably would’ve felt like doing that even if the movie had no sound at all. The first 20 minutes almost sent my kids over the edge–by mid-movie they were going completely batshit. I put this movie right down there with “Zardoz”. I freakin’ hated it.
Cost of the movie? $20 at Walmart. What it would’ve cost me to rent it? $5. If anyone out there truly enjoyed it and wants to buy it from me for $15, let me know.

About Toni

Mom. Wife. Artist. I take care of the kids and pretend to clean sometimes. I can cook spagetti and I have never been arrested. View all posts by Toni

One response to “Where the Wild Things Suck

You must be logged in to post a comment.

%d bloggers like this: