I relish the opportunity for all men to explore their sensitive sides, I really do. I'm not trying to discredit crying here, I do a bit of it myself from time to time, but COME ON! The incessant tears and quivering lips on the Incredible Spiderman was too much for this girl. After the fifth time, I buried my head in my husband's shoulder and began to giggle quietly. Lucky for me, it was quiet enough that it sounded like sobbing. Hey, who wants to be the heartless wench at a superhero party? Not me, no siree.
For a few minutes I lost myself in mid-age reflection, trying to put together the pieces of the story and extract the moral, the ethical lessons I was supposed to be gauging from the movie. I envisioned myself driving home with my kids and asking, "so what did you learn?" Then I imagined how I would explain good vs. evil and so on. Then Spidey started crying again.
On the way home:
"Did you guys like the movie?"
"Uh-huh, it was cool"
"Yeah, it was"