cynicalHere is an excerpt from a conversation I had with my mother last night...
Context: "Motumbe" is the name she gave to a paper mache (....how do you spell that...?) mask I made in grade school that she still has and loves very, very much in that way mothers love crappy art you did as a kid like no one else does.
Me: :says something charmingly insulting:
Her: Keep messing with me and Motumbe will shrink your head! Like that character in Beetlejuice.
Me: Oh, that's nice...you're going to let Motumbe hurt your child, whom you swear you never want to be hurt?
Her: He's not going to hurt you...just shrink your head.
Me: Well if he does it like the guy in Beetlejuice, not only will he hurt me, I'll be dead.
Her: You won't be dead! You'll just have a tiny head!
Me: .....Ma, the guy in Beetlejuice with the shrunken head? He was dead. That's why he was in the waiting room...
Her: He wasn't dead!....was he?
Me: .....YES, MA!
Her: Was he really?!
Me: YES! They all were! All the weird monster people were dead! That was sort of the whole POINT of the movie!
Her: (pause) ....Even Beetlejuice?
Me: ESPECIALLY Beetlejuice!
Her: Really?! Well I totally missed that! I had no idea!
Me: -_- (sighs)
Her: I'm going to have to rewatch that movie...I never got that.
You guys? My mom has seen Beetlejuice AT LEAST twenty times...and she wasn't aware it was a movie about dead people. I...I just don't even, you guys.
