I don’t know exactly how it’s happened, but the four of us are all here watching New Year’s Rockin’ Eve. I was too passive. It honestly didn’t occur to me that the girls would stay up until midnight. When we’re home, we head upstairs early. Like, 8:30 pm is late for them. But since it didn’t occur to me, I didn’t think to say ahead of time that they couldn’t, or confer with Cute W about our plan, and Cute W assumed that they’d stay up because it’s New Year’s Eve. So here they are, watching vaguely inappropriate network tv in their footie pajamas.
We started the evening by watching Star Wars Episode 3. I had never seen it. If I’d thought about it, I would have realized: things end badly. Poor J takes these things to heart. She cried. No, she sobbed. And sobbed some more. And sniffled. And whimpered. And finally said (spoiler alert for anyone years behind like me), “I HATE THIS ONE! Almost all the Jedis are dead! And she died! And Anakin turned bad! It’s TERRIBLE!!” And a bit more crying.
Now it’s Rockin’ Eve, and the show is pretty awful. It’s like commercial piled on commercial. Is it always this bad? Is anyone craving lip gloss right now?
But the girls have been entertaining.
J, during the Mariah Carey clip: “Mommy, is that outfit appropriate?”
M: “What’s his name?”
me: “Pit bull.”
J: “What kind of name is that?”
M: “Wait, what?”
me and W: “PIT. BULL.”
M: “That’s like, the worst name ever.”
J: “Why would his parents call him that?”
me: “No, it’s not like a real name. Actually, I think it’s the band’s name. You know, like a stage name”
M: “It’s stupid and awful.”
J: “Wait, what is it?”
me and W: “Pit. Bull. Like the dog.”
M: “OOOOOOOOHHHHH. . . I thought it was pimple.”
Watching Nicki Minaj, there’s quite a bit of commentary.
M: “That dress should be against the law!” (I looked and didn’t find a link for you yet, picture a Judy Jetson dress).
J asks, “Is her hair naturally that color?” No, I explain.
M says, “It’s supposed to be style.”
J: “I think I just don’t understand style.”
M: “That’s not style, that’s an error.”
J: “What’s an error?”
M: “A mistake. A mishap.”
We’ve never all watched the ball drop on tv before. We’ve always either been at a party or we’ve sent the girls to bed. The Jenny McCarthy patter with the crowd is making us a little crazy.
Still, the kids are in it for the long haul. Earlier today J said, “What’s the big deal? It’s just a bunch of people yelling and a ball?”Now both of them have hunkered down and they’re eagerly awaiting Lady Gaga. I wonder if the girls will like her outfit?
Ha, J just asked, “Wait, does the ball go down or up?”