Imitation of Life

I have found one more reason to encourage you to go see Wall E.  Apparently there is a group of conservatives out there ranting to whoever will listen that Wall E is a wolf in sheep's clothing - or should I say a lefty liberal propaganda film.  That's right, according to these folks Wall E is a fascist and a Malthusian fearmonger (Fearmongering? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!). 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that if these guys don't like it - it must  be good  ;)

If you have kids, nieces, nephews, friends who will loan you their kids - go see Wall-E.  Two thumbs up for kids and adults alike.  Smart script.  Touching.  Humorous. Multi-layered.  In fact, even if you don't have any kids to go with you'd probably enjoy it. 

My boys are currently obsessed with Pokemon.  They want the cards and toys, they watch the cartoons and movies and they're constantly role playing and "battling" one another with their imaginary Pokemon characters.  (And I mean constantly.)

Well, last night I think my (in six days) four year old gave me the big Pokemon WTF.  Now, I can't be sure and I admit to bursting out laughing when it happened, but upon further contemplation I think it was the Pokemon version of the middle finger.  You decide:

Four-year-old: Can I have ice cream now?

Me: Not until you finish your dinner.

FYO: But if I finish I'll be too full for ice cream.

Me: Well, that's a chance we'll have to take. No ice cream until you finish your dinner.

FYO (with brows down, eyes squinted, lower lip out): Pikachu, thunderbolt to Mommy.

I so got the WTF, didn't I   ;)

I saw this PSA and felt compelled to repost it. Its simplicity is stunning, while its imagery moves me to near tears. This is going on today - while you read this, while you play with your children in the backyard, while you sit down to dinner with your family in the safety of your dining room - and yet these people are so often forgotten about.

I, too, forget, but on days when I remember I thank God that my family isn't in such peril.

Tonight my five year old requested to see some pictures of me when I was "a little girl - and I don't mean a baby - I mean a girl with long hair like you have now but younger."

I found some and got this reaction:

"Oh my gosh! You were so cute! I think I'm going to cry!"  (He's the sensitive one, remember?)

It took me back, too, and I couldn't believe the clothes, the hair, the BIG glasses - and I must say I was a pretty cute kid until those awkward middle school years. What I really want to do is scan a few pictures in and maybe I'll show you a few. Let me see what I can do . . .