What a great weekend! We actually had a quiet Saturday afternoon with no birthday parties or obligations, and we just got to Sping. "Sping" is one of those family code-speak words that comes from a discussion Chris and I once had -- which typifies the high level of communication in our marriage -- where I said, "I love just being with you" and he thought I said, "I love to sping with you." And now we have our own little word for just hanging out, doing nothing, being together with no agenda.
So with a few rare hours of Sping time on Saturday, we did what every good American family does. Watch TV. ChellBell and I curled up with the little dog for 2 uninterrupted hours and watched the Wizard of Oz.
It's kind of sad how the iconic staples of childhood, like Santa Claus and the Wizard of Oz, lose their "iconic-ness" the older we get. Seriously, I watched this movie and found myself criticizing the backdrops, wondering if the munchkins were lip-syncing, and not shaken at all by the talking, apple-throwing, wicked-witch controlled forest. Glenda the Good Witch looked a little in need of botox, and Dor-o-thy was much more naive and tragic than I recalled.
Nevertheless, ChellBell is young enough to experience the film the way I remember, and it was fun to share that with her. (Although she wondered why they were going to the Wizard when they could just take some time to pray to Jesus for "a heart, a home, the nerve"...) I asked her what she would ask the Wizard for if she made the long trek down the yellow brick road, and she said "An American Girl Doll", which tops her Santa wish list this year. Thank goodness it's easier to get to the Galleria than having to travel to the Emerald City.
I still love the scene when the witch melts and am thinking about carrying a bucket of water with me in case I run across a certain person or two... And those dad-gum flying monkeys... I don't care how old you get or how often you see the movie -- they are just disturbing. Wearing their little old-time-theatre-usher uniforms, picking up little dogs in their teeth. It's just not right. Though I would be willing to offer my little dog up as a peace offering should the opportunity present itself...
And the ruby slippers. What girl -- young or old -- doesn't love the ruby slippers? Magic, priceless-gem-studded-shoes that even Tiffany and Cartier can't boast.
So I guess the iconic doesn't go away, it's just iconic in different ways. But as I lay there on the sofa, curled up, spinging with my family, I definitely thought, "There's no place like Home."
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