One of Hubs’ favorite movies is Tombstone, and I don’t get it. Evidently you need a fair amount of testosterone coursing through your veins to understand the allure of this movie. In Hubs’ favorite scene, Wyatt Earp stares down the Bad Guys, his gaze steely and his jaw twitching, and he growls, "You tell ’em I’m comin’, and I’m bringin’ Hell with me." And every time–every time–Hubs’ fists punch the air and he whoops in manly approval. We have to rewind to watch that scene again. And again. And I just don’t get it.
Until last weekend.
It was a long day. We had a houseful of little boys for a sleepover the night before, and they stayed up late. Then at the crack of dawn, we were awakened by the unmistakable sounds of Nintendo. The savages had awakened at six-flippin’-thirty on a Saturday morning. The day drug on, including an episode of car trouble and a soccer match in icy wind. Exhausted, we decided we were due a nice dinner. We hauled our rowdy crew to our favorite Mexican food place, where a live band was playing. Over-tired and over-stimulated, the savages were predictably savage as we endured the dreaded "can’t-they-control-their-kids" stares from fellow patrons. Corrie dumped a plate of rice in the floor, and Stephen found a way to flip tortilla chips across the table using only a knife. Good times.
Summoning my last ounce of patience, we came home and headed the kids to bed, but they had other plans. The armpit noises during prayer time was what finally sent me over the edge.
"That’s IT!" I shouted, in the snarliest mom-voice I could muster. "You’re going to bed, and I’m going downstairs, and if I have to come back up here…" And I’m not kidding, for some reason that movie line popped into my head, and it took every ounce of my will power NOT to say "…I’m bringin’ Hell with me!"
Now where in the heck did THAT come from? I guess this ol’ momma has a little more fire in her belly than I thought.