Sometimes dads have to make hard decisions.

Last Friday night, I was informed I had to take the mancub to the movies -- SHE told me a break was needed from both of us, so....

Unfortunately, while we were discussing the viewing options (we were at our neighbor's house) 'Spiderman' was mentioned by someone (NOT me!), and that was all the mancub wanted to watch. Not the more suitable G-rated fare for a young child, not even a PG flick, but the PG-13 flick about the ol' wallcrawler himself. Spidey was it. The mancub was very determined.

Dads, you know the trouble I was in. I had to occupy the mancub safely for a few hours, or else face the wrath of Mom. I also knew that his movie choice was not quite age-appropriate. And since this state won't allow underage people into certain establishments, even with their legal guardians accompanying them, goin' clubbin' was out of the question, too. (Just kidding about that last part. I wouldn't really take him out clubbing. But a sports bar, though...)

I also didn't want the mancub scarred for life this soon -- there's plenty of time for the public school system to do that -- and didn't want to deal with the battle that taking him to a different movie would cause, but I didn't look forward to him watching something that would most likely cause nightmares, either. Particularly if I am the one who sat next to him while he watched the scary movie.

As we were getting ready to leave the house, I kept suggesting the other options, more than a few times, particularly the CGI-version of Scooby Doo (that would start only ten minutes after Spidey did, playing in the same cineplex). It was all for naught. All during the drive to the cineplex, as we were walking in, and even getting the tickets, he was insistent on seeing Spiderman. So we went into the theater to see Spidey, and I reassured him that he could squeeze my hand during any scary parts.

I asked him again if he wanted to see a different movie. Nope. He... wanted... to... see... Spiderman! (Say that phrase with a rising emphasis on each word, for full effect).

I kept the armrest raised between us, so he could cuddle closer, which he took advantage of just after the commercials previews began to roll. I felt him jump a few times during the opening credits, and my hand was crushed more than a few times -- I think he was bothered more by the exaggerated audio dynamics in the soundtrack than the images.

I tried to cover the mancub's eyes for the scene where Willam Dafoe grabbed his co-worker, after getting dosed with the Green Goblin-izing gas. (Beautiful casting there, BTW, and a nice blocking of that shot -- it felt very true to my idea of how the comic book should be translated onto the big screen.) It was a good attempt at a dad action, and I think I may have actually interrupted his vision of that scene, somewhat.

But the mancub bravely soldiered on, very determined to see thru his decision to watch this movie. Finally, during the scene when Peter Parker's new Spidey-sense starts tingling as the goon tries to punch Peter at his locker, this very little voice next to me said, "Daddy? I wanna go see Scooby Doo now."

So we ducked out of that theater, and into the first door I saw that had Scooby Doo written above it in red LED letters, and we grabbed two seats. There we saw the final scenes of the flick, and saw the true villain revealed. Then the mancub and I drove home, where we finished off the popcorn while watching episodes of the cartoon version of Spiderman, curled up on the couch together. I liked that last part of the evening the best...

7:17:45 PM  [] blah blah blah'd on this