Scenes Between A Mother And Daughter: Part I

I have a nine-year-old daughter who is a tad on the precocious side. The following conversation took place last night, shortly after the completion of the evening meal.

Daughter: Mom, can I get the DVD of The Parent Trap?

Me: No.

Daughter: Why not?

Me: No.

Daughter: *sighs with arms crossed over nonexistent chest* But WHY NOT??

Me: *glares in general direction of dog who is attempting to eviscerate a bag of leftovers I forgot to toss in the trash* Because I hate that movie. I’ve always hated that movie. I hated that movie when it starred Hayley Mills, and I hate it now that it stars Lindsey Lohan before she got boobies. No.

Daughter: What’s to hate? It’s Disney. Disney is good, wholesome entertainment.

Me: *sets down silverware caddy with loud, jangling thud on counter* What you don’t know about Disney would fill a book. Do you know what a Nazi sympathizer is?

Daughter: *rolls eyes*

Me: Do you know what a subliminal message is?

Daughter: Mom--

Me: Plus, they employ Billy Ray Cyrus. What’s wholesome about THAT, I’d like to know.

Daughter: Mom? Topic?

Me: That movie is evil, sweet-cheeks. EVIL. Think about it: two adults decide they can’t get along well enough to continue their marriage, so they decide to divorce and live on opposite ends of the country/world, never allowing either of their daughters to know she has a twin. An IDENTICAL TWIN. Not to mention depriving said daughters of all contact with their other PARENT. Talk about self-centered, immature, irresponsible asswipes.

Daughter: Mom, you promised you wouldn’t use that word anymore. I’m telling Dad.

Me: And then they get all bent out of shape when the kids pull a fast one. Like the KIDS are the ones with the problems. I tell you, it bugged me when it was Brian Keith and Maureen O’Hara pulling this self-indulgent shit...

Daughter: Who?

Me: ...and it bugs me now that it’s Dennis Quaid and what’s-her-name. The British chick.

Daughter: Natasha Richardson.

Me: Right. I mean, I understand a marriage not working out, but to split up siblings? And twins? And then they do this big scene where they can’t even remember WHY they didn’t get along, and it all turns out to be over nothing? I want to call Social Services on their spoiled asses. In real life, this situation would lead to major anger and abandonment issues for the kids, not to mention a lifetime of therapy. But Disney passes it off as a fun ROMP. *runs out of steam*

*long pause*

Daughter: Missed your nap today, huh?

Me: Yeah.

Daughter: So about that DVD?

Me: Put it on your Christmas list. Maybe Santa’s a shill for the Mouse, too.

Daughter: Mom--

Me: Go do your homework.

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