For Better or Worse

For a freshman at college, fall is a season filled with homesickness. By the time Thanksgiving break rolls on by, freshman can't wait to come back home for family, familiarity, and good food. In turn, parents can't wait to see their little babies return to the nest and smother them with affection and calories. Family members tend to become more possessive of the time they have with you. In particular, grandparents tend to want to reconnect with the young folk and spread their worldly wisdom to the next generation. Of course, this is never received very well.
Like most moms, my mom makes it a habit of guilt-tripping me into spending time with my grandparents every once and awhile, and the visits usually do not end well for me. The latest incident was this Thanksgiving break. I was lying on the couch when my mom poked her head around the corner, and I knew she wanted something out of me. "Lizzzziiie, you haven't seen your grandparents in the longest time. Don't you think it's time to...?” The last time she uttered those words, I had a terrible time. As I recall:
I was sitting in the car with my grandma, grandpa, and mom. I was the victim of one of those things that mothers are spectacularly good at. That sly dog (aka my mom) had guilt tripped me into going out somewhere with my grandparents. It wasn’t that I minded seeing the old geezers. It was what we were about to do. Unlike a normal family, who would just go to dinner and bingo night at the senior citizens center, we were going to see a movie. Instead of spending my Friday night out with my friends having a blast, I was going to have a boring night with the g-rents.
As we headed to the movies, I was getting the usual questions and lectures. They would ask, “How are you doing in school?” or say, “Make sure you study hard.” Of course the words went into one ear and out the other. Honestly, school will always be there but my youth won’t be. The point was moot. However, I endured fifteen agonizing minutes of the badgering until I saw the blessed sight of the movie theater. Once we parked, my grandparents took their sweet old time moving their fragile bones into the theater. Not only were they dragging me there, but we were going to be late as well. Finally, we got to the front desk, and of course my chatterbox grandmother just had to converse with the lady selling tickets. The ticket lady seemed nice, but honestly, I just wanted to get the whole ordeal over with. In a little under an hour though, her kindness would be greatly appreciated.
My grandparents had purchased four tickets for Something’s Gotta Give. On the one hand, it might be a nice change from the crude humor I was used to experiencing, like that in American Pie. On the other hand, I thought it looked like a movie for the elderly because the main romance in it was between Jack Nicholson and Diane Keaton. As we sat in front of the giant screen that was about to either make or break this whole excursion, I realized that I was on the end of the aisle. They couldn’t even see me, and I bet they wouldn’t have even known whether I was there. That was just great. I was stuck in a movie I didn’t even want to see, and my grandparents probably didn’t care whether I went or not.
As my frustrations rose, the movie started. I finally began to enjoy myself a little. Silence from my grandparents was golden, and as the movie progressed, I realized it had some potential. It was funny, and despite their age, Nicholson and Keaton made a cute couple in a creepy, old people sort of way. I found myself enjoying the great acting in the film. However, the fact that Nicholson dates a younger girl and then moves on to her mother is a little disturbing (or “pimpish” to some of you). Not only was that disturbing, but more and more old people nude scenes began popping up. My eyes were scarred. Obviously, that’s not the best type of film to go see with extended family.
Apparently, my grandparents felt the same way. Here’s where my night was about to go from bad to worse. Eventually, my grandma started acting up, and I could hear her whispering to my mom. Then my mother turned towards me. I thought to myself, “Great. Here we go.” That was when my mom dropped the bomb. She whispered, “You’re grandparents are feeling uncomfortable. You have to leave...NOW!” Where was I supposed to go?! It’s not like I could jump in the car and drive home! However, like the good daughter I am, I went out and sat in the lobby.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop there. I thought my luck was beginning to change when the nice ticket lady from before came over to talk to me. She knew I was supposed to be in the movie and didn’t understand why I had left. I explained to her that my grandparents didn’t feel comfortable with me in the theater. She told me that a movie was about to start in another theater, and that I could go watch that one if I wanted. Thinking “Wow, this lady is really nice,” I blindly trudged into the theater without inquiring as to what other pain I was going to have to sit through.
Quietly, I walked into the theater. Once I got around the bend though, I saw no one else was in there. I figured I was early, so I sat down and waited for the movie to begin. When the lights dimmed, all I could do was groan in disgust. It was the movie Haunted Mansion, which in case you don’t know, is a “scary” movie for five year olds. I stifled the urge to go back out and beat the nice ticket lady with a stick.
However, to my dismay, not even an hour into this movie, my mom walked into the theater. Looking around, she saw that no one else was there. She called up to me, “Grandma and Grandpa are ready to go. Come on.” I responded, “Wait. I don’t even get to finish this movie?!” All I received in return was an authoritative “No! Let’s go.” Maybe I should have been happy, seeing as it was such a terrible movie, but still, it was the principle of matter. If I’m going to start a movie, I should be able to finish it no matter how terrible it may be.
As these thoughts raced through my head, I knew that whatever my mom had in store for me, it had the potential to be very, very bad. But, seeing as I hadn't seen my family in like 2 months, I couldn't be heartless and refuse. I'd just have to accept my fate, bite the bullet, and face whatever "fun" expedition my mom had planned for me – for better or for very, very, very bad.
Don't you love fall and Thanksgiving break?