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Thursday, December 05, 2013

Child At Heart - Originally posted 2007

Is it normal to know every word to every song Disney has ever put in their movies?

It snuck up on me. I worked in daycare for 3 years, plus I have 2 small children (5 and 3 years old), so that was my excuse for watching cartoons and buying every shiny toy that stuck out in a department store. I'd secretly sit in the dark even after my girls went to bed, munching on popcorn and sneaking jelly beans and giggling while Spongebob and Patrick got Squidword zapped repeatedly by a jellyfish. I'd sing Beauty and the Beast and the Little Mermaid tunes loud and proudly in front of anybody, as long as my girls were awake and singing with me, dancing around the room - and all anyone ever said was, "What a good Mommy, to be willing to look so silly to entertain her children."

And then I told on myself.

Inadvertently, of course.

It started one day while I was washing dishes. The house was quiet except for the sound of running water and the occasional splash of a sponge into the water. Ah, quiet time - time for me to collect my grown-up thoughts and plan the rest of the day, and tomorrow - but what I didn't expect, is that the near silence spelled disaster. First, my foot started tapping. Not so threatening, right? But then, I got a song in my head, a bouncy melody that made my foot tap with more force - which moved up my leg - and before I knew it, my hips were swaying just the slightest bit, and then, my arms were swinging and before I could contain it, I was swirling and twirling, and the words flew out of my mouth with full force,

"CINDERELLI CINDERELLI NIGHT AND DAY IT'S CINDERELLI...."

Uh - oh.

My husband was leaned in the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed, his eyebrow cocked, with the strangest little smirk on his face. "Uh-huhhh...." He said.

"WHAT?" I tried to sound indignant, I really did.

"So now we know...." and he walked away.

Pffff.

Maybe he'd forget that one little slip-up.

Nope.

Once it started, it spiraled out of control until I was standing in the middle of Wal-Mart, doing that same silly little shuck and jive, but this time it was to the tune of,

"I'M A GOOFY GOOBER, YEAHHHH...."

Uh-oh.

There wasn't just my husband there this time. There were kids (who apparently thought it was quite funny), and their parents (who actually looked quite embarrassed for me, before they quickly grabbed their children and ran around the corner), an older couple (who, disturbingly enough, didn't look too surprised by it), and a stock boy, who just minded his business and pretended he hadn't witnessed such an embarrassing display. Fortunately for me, I had my girls in the shopping cart, so I just turned to them (who had that same little smirk their Daddy had had - both of them!) and acted like it was all for their benefit. *whew* The isle was empty. ...and then my husband came around the corner, smiling that smile of his, and strutting like he was supreme ruler of the Wal-Mart-grocery-isle-thespians-of-America League.

I was finished.

My life was over as I knew it.

And now, I'm barred from watching cartoons with my children for a while. Ok, not really. But I can quit any time I want. The first step to recovery is admitting a problem, right? My name is Sandra, and I'm addicted to brainless, corny joke laced, animated movies. I'm still a grown-up, but dang it, there's no shame in enjoying childish things when you can.

LOOK! Something shiny!

**Published at Helium.com
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