Boo Hoo Hoo

I'm a fairly emotional person by nature, but I don't cry inappropriately at much in books or movies. I mean, yeah, when Jenny dies in Forrest Gump (even though I hated her character), I cry. Steel Magnolias tears me a new one from the moment when Shelby collapses til the closing credits. I cried openly when both Sirius Black and Dobby died. Both book and film. (I was too outraged when Dumbledore was murdered to cry.) But most of those are places where you expect grown adults to cry.

Here's the thing, though. There's something monumentally unfair afoot here, and it's something that sneaks up on you and you don't expect. Hollywood producers are sneaky bastards, and they've done something that I never expected and wasn't warned about. It took me completely by surprise.

Nobody told me that I'd be weeping like a schoolgirl with a broken heart over the TV shows and movies my kids watch. 

It's true. I can admit it. Now, I've always cried during Dumbo. Even as a child, I cried during the scene where his mother rocks him from inside the jail car and the song "Baby Mine" plays. But then I grew out of watching kids' TV, and I was spared watching that stuff. Now I'm back to watching all of these shows, and whoa. If Dumbo were the end of it, that'd be fine. But no. Oh no. Disney just can't leave it at that. And the people at Pixar are flat-out sadistic. I think they ENJOY making us weep like sniveling little bitches. At the very least, they've got some kind of backdoor deal with kleenex. I have yet to see a Pixar movie where I didn't leak from the eyes at some point during the film. Hell, I didn't make it 5 minutes into "Up" before I was blubbering all over the place.

But I'm certain there are psychologists employed at Disney who are specifically hired to determine how to yank the heartstrings of us poor suckers parents. I didn't come up with this conspiracy theory until I sat down with my kids yesterday to watch "Pooh's Heffalump Movie" and cried. I mean, seriously. "Pooh's Heffalump Movie?"  This is getting ridiculous. And yet, there I sat, wiping my eyes on the shoulder of my shirt because I was sitting under two toddlers. Who were not crying. At all. Just me. Mom the sucker.

Charlie, 3, turns around to me and says "Mommy, are you sad?"

No, honey. Mommy's not sad. Mommy's just a victim of Disney's corporate tear factory for parents. That's all.

Can't wait for Wreck-It Ralph. *sigh*