A New Brand of Family Fun OR How We Spent Monday Night

I recently made a little mistake of judgment that I will now share with you so that you never make the same mistake.

Allow me to set the scene: on the eve of my father's 65th birthday, I got the feeling that he wasn't so excited about it after all. I mean, for YEARS he's been ordering senior breakfasts at Dennys and haggling at the movie counter for $2 off. He LOVED all the perks of nearly passing for a senior citizen. But when it came to actually "becoming" one, he got a little bit bummed. "Dad, you wanna go to the casino on your birthday?" Nope. Sad face. "Wanna go to SOUPLANTATION?" Nope. That's when I started to worry.

We quickly devised a plan- entertain him with a funny slapstick movie and a dinner he'd like. Ready, set, go. Short of my brother shaving for the occasion, we couldn't have better laid out our plans.

I arrived at the house and mom was cooking. During dinner we each poured ourselves one glass of wine from the half-empty bottles he wanted us to finish. We ate everything on the table and kept the conversation pleasant. We spoke about how to best wrangle a good deal on the used car Susie and Michael were about to buy. As soon as we were done, I beat him to clearing dishes and made sure the kitchen was SPOTLESS following a meal of his favorite food.

Then came the presents. For once, I did as he said, avoiding big or expensive gifts. He openly hates gifts. But I had to get him something. So that something was the latest John Grisham book. Paperback. With the Target 20% off sticker to boot. (I couldn't strip him of that extra bit of joyful news.) It was wrapped in leftover silvery wedding bell wrapping paper. I had even used one of the 50 cent greeting cards he'd bought for me the week before. He asked me with joy if it was one of those cards and when I confirmed, his grin grew bigger than it has in the past 28 years I've known him. It was a grin that said "this is my kid. Now I am sure of it!"

My brother and sister followed suit, providing him with unwrapped gifts that he loved. A book on the stock market, the Godfather dvd set and a magic dvd. We just had to drive it home.

Now my dad is a guy whose cine-motto is "I don't want to watch something depressing." That's right. Schindler's List can win all the awards it wants, no dice. However, he will watch with delight at Inspector Closeau's adventures in the Pink Panther series starring Peter Sellers. If it involves Steve Martin, it's going to be promising. And my dad has singlehandedly kept Leslie Nielsen in the business. Just in case you wonder why they made "Naked Gun 33 and 1/3".

I had recommended a movie I'd seen for the evening's finale. We'd get dad his jar of roasted peanuts and seat him in his favorite chair. This..... was..... it. Funny? Yes. Slapstick? Surely. Male humor? Check!

It was "THE FORTY YEAR OLD VIRGIN".

Now, I'll be the first to say that I don't have a great memory. I can remember the gist of a movie or book, but very rarely do I remember details or character lines (that memory space has gone to song lyrics, as we all know). So when we sat down to watch the movie, I had NO idea what we were in for. Honestly, the scene that stuck out to me was the chest waxing. Blame it on my middle eastern self. I remember the scene about body hair, and TOTALLY blank on the substance of the rest of it.

Unfortunately, this was the part of the plan that I rigged ALL by myself. My brother nagged that he hadn't seen more than the first few minutes, but went along just to be part of the evening. My mom obviously hadn't seen it because, well, she's a mom. When I suggested it, my sister offered to bring it along because it had just arrived on Netflix. That's right. JUST arrived. As in "she hadn't watched it yet." (Her boyfriend had, though, and for that I totally and completely implicate him as an accomplice in what followed.)

Have you ever watched a bedroom scene with your parents? I generally don't because, back when we were young, my mom instituted the "take a walk" policy. If there was so much as a couple leaning together to kiss (I'm sure we missed many a whisper scene), she announced "TAKE A WAAAALK!" and off we went. Susie and I would march around our old house in Chicago, which was conveniently arranged in a circular course. We'd hurry around the tv room and continue through the house, perhaps banging a few piano keys on the way, sliding across a bit of the wood floor, and continuing on our blissfully happy way until we were reinvited into the room.

Well lemme tell you, I have never wanted to tell my PARENTS to take a walk as I did that night. My mom eventually removed herself from the room quietly, for which I was grateful. I don't know exactly when she left, because I couldn't look at her! The movie began with a conversation about woman-on-horse action and ended with a graphic "ha. You're not a virgin anymoooooooore!" wedding night. Ugh. I get dizzy just thinking about it.

Somehow the entire night, I was immobilized. I had nothing to say for myself. To speak up would be to acknowledge the nightmare I had created for us. And to draw attention to the fact that I had already seen it and found it to be funny enough to recommend. OOPS. So we all just sat there. I'm going to have to organize a Social Institute for Family Film Watching, which will include a total and complete list of movies that are inappropriate to watch with your parents. This just shouldn't happen. I mean, who are all those people out crusading for education and homelessness? Don't they know the REAL social issues pressuring our domestic agenda?

On the up side, Dad laughed out loud, so I knew I did the right thing as far as cheering him up. Despite that glitch, the evening went off quite well, and while I'll be abdicating my throne as "film chooser" FOREVER, I think we made a difference in how he'll head into the next year of his life.

Too bad about all that $ we saved on gift wrapping or cards or expensive gifts though. How much is family therapy anyway?