I grew up with the Muppets. Muppet Babies was my Saturday morning favorite, and I saw all of the movies (I think I must be slightly too young for the Muppet Show, because I don’t remember watching that). I think they were PTA movies, remember those? Did they do those in your town? Somehow the PTA got some sort of deal with a particular movie theater and they would show movies for like 50 cents on Saturday afternoons during the summer.
Anyway, when they started showing previews for the new Muppet movie, I wanted to see it so bad. I also didn’t want to be the creepy adult that was there without a kid. So I brought it up to my nephews that live here in town. They’re seven and nine. I was completely shocked at their response. It was like, “No way, Aunt Noey, I think it looks so dumb. I’m way to cool for that.” Really? The Muppets? Dumb? You don’t want to go to the movie? Even if it looks slightly dumb, but someone else is paying? And there’s popcorn there? Seriously? And the answer seemed to keep being not “No,” but “Hell, No.” Ok, not really, they don’t talk that way, but that was the attitude.
Luckily, just as it was coming out, my niece and nephew came into town from Montana. My younger sister and I offered to take them. They were stoked about it. At 2 and a half and five, they’re more the right ages for it, anyway. We decided to make double sure with the big boys; I didn’t want to hurt their feelings when they found out that I was taking their cousins to the movie. Caid, the seven year old, said politely, “No thank you.” Bridger, the nine year old, said basically, “If I don’t have anything else that I could be doing, then I’ll go.” Wow. Thanks, B. So it ended up that he went, after all.
Afterward, I asked him if he liked it and he said, “Well, it could have been better.” I told him it was ok if he didn’t like the movie, but there was no way it could have been better. It was just the exact amount of sad and sweet and cheese. I completely loved it.
It was a bit of a comedy of errors, what with the two adults (that are not overly practiced at hanging out with kiddos) to three kids ratio, plus a service dog. But we all made it in one piece, and they didn’t have too much sugar shock from the candy we fed them.
Jake, the five year old, was the perfect age for it. His favorite part was when Miss Piggy banged her head on the desk.
Bridger didn’t have a favorite part.
Addy’s favorite part was: “Um, I like Pink.” I don’t think she quite got the question.
My favorite part was the chickens, but I won’t give away the joke. I will say that I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.