Let me just say in advance that this is not a complaint. Really. It’s not. But the babe discovered a new movie this weekend – The Lion King. Or, as she calls it, The Lion King-ah. We’re not huge on commercial television around here but, for the most part, I’m down with dvds. Sure, there’s hidden advertising on most of those as well but at least I don’t have to hear things like “Oh my gosh! Zorbeez. I like Zorbeez. I wish I had some.” (Okay, it’s really my husband who’s obsessed with the Zorbeez but you get the idea.)
So anyway I had no objections when she pulled the still-wrapped dvd out of our collection and asked to watch it on Saturday. It was 102 degrees outside, according to my car, and we had already had our fill of the swimming pool. We set up on mommy and daddy’s bed with a bowl of crackers and a cup of water and let the cinematic mastery begin. I had almost forgotten how much I liked that movie. The songs are fun and the color is great and there are times when I can almost forget I’m watching cartoon jungle critters sing and dance. It’s really engaging.
But we’re now on our fifth viewing. Five. Five times in three days. For us that’s a bit much. I think it would be considered exhaustive by even the most lumpy of couch potatoes. I think I’m going to have Hakuna Matata nightmares. I’m almost hoping Hurricane Ike throws a little wind our way, just enough to knock out the power for a couple of hours. I have to keep reminding myself that it could be worse. I could, after all, be enduring hour upon hour of Franklin or Little Bear or (shudder) Max and Ruby. I’ll gladly take a little Circle Of Life over those any day.
