Mum at the Movies

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I just can't watch a movie these days without being a "mother". Sure, I will get into it and enjoy it and have a big laugh, but the mother in me always rears her head at some stage.

Last night I obliged my husband and went to see a full-on action movie starring John Travolta - From Paris With Love. I have actually come to like action movies since getting together with O as, in the days we were dating, when we spent many an evening with his then teenage sons I - as the odd one out - never got much of a say and therefore action and thriller movies were all we watched, and I learned to enjoy them.

O hates dramas and anything reminscent of real life. He has a tough job and recently lost his mother, so I figured that a mind-numbing action movie was probably the best idea for relaxation.

The movie was good, really. And then they started shooting. I actually prefer that to fist fighting, because no one suffers too long. At one stage, one of the main characters got his face completely splattered with blood when shooting somebody at very close range. Man, I actually ached to give him a wad of baby wipes to clean it all off nice and quick.

And I'm pretty sure I am the only one who left that cinema in tears. No, I wasn't moved by the plot, even though the ending was kind of touching. It was the fact that John Travolta lost his son a year ago, and I hadn't seen him in any movies since then. Will I ever be normal again?

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