what a Saturday night looks like …. sometimes

Once upon a time I told the kids we were watching Maleficent at our next Family Movie Night.

It seemed like a pretty easy promise to make and to keep.  (What is not easy, on the other hand, is pronouncing the movie Maleficent.  Why is it so hard?)

Movie Night rolls in.  

I have Mosely check Netflix.  Maleficnnt is not available.

Fine.

We check iTunes.

Malefichtyy is available.  For purchasing.  For $19.99.

No thanks.

I text Amanda. “Where did you guys get your copy of Maelficnntyihk?  Do you own it?”

“The library,” she responds.  Like a true planner.  A person prepared.

Fine.

“Guys – let’s just go to a Redbox – it’s like two miles away.”

Piper asks if she needs to wear shoes.  I consider this.  She probably won’t even leave the car.  “Yeah, I guess you should.  Just in case.”

We drive to the closest Redbox.

No Malskgjbdik&.

A neighbor and friend pulls up as we stand, disappointed, outside the glowing Redbox.

“You know you can look on your phone and find out where Maleficent would be,” he informs me.

Yeah.  Sure.  I know that.  Sort of.

I check the website.  It’s sort of confusing.  I forget how to spell Maljlaji8398034.  I think I find it at a nearby Redbox.

Cool.  We drive there.

One Redbox.  Two Redbox.  Three Redbox.  One store that looks like it should have a Redbox but instead has a coin counting machine.

Are you kidding me?

Of course, now it’s like a mission.  A quest.  A hilarious, ridiculous, unimportant quest.  That we must conquer.

I text a friend who lives near the exact location our car is at that moment.  No.  She doesn’t own a copy of Mal8*kj12t.  (And why would she really?)

“Let’s just run into Wal-Mart, maybe it’ll be a $5 movie now on sale,” London suggests.

“Eh.  Okay,” I cave in.

“Mom, I can’t go into the store,” Bergen says quietly.  “I’m not wearing shoes.”

Huh.  That stinks.  Search the car for shoes.  What?  The car is very very clean.

“What if I take one shoe off and I wear one and Bergen wears one and we both hop together through the store?” Mosely suggests.

It’s a funny option.

I kind of want to try it.

But, you know, I don’t actually allow it to happen.

It looks like there’s no hope.

Mal-04273b5f9ono*&^% is a no-go.  Not tonight.

“Let’s grab a special treat and then head home and pick a new choice from Netflix,” is my stellar parental decision.

“Yes! A treat!”  The backseat gang is pacified with sweets.

“Um.  We can’t go in a store Mommy,” my eldest son reminds me.

Oh right.  Shoeless Bergen.

That’s fine.

I drive through our town, assuming the bakery would be open still.

It wasn’t.

“Hey, we could try McDonald’s,” Bergen laughs.

“Okay,” I say.

The shock in our car is palpable.

I drive through – because no one requires shoes at a drive in.

And I order McFlurries.

Because sometimes you do what you gotta do.

Today on my to-do list: request Maleiui7%^&#^5 at the library.