While the rest of America was partaking in swim parties and roasting weenies, my kids and I were home alone twiddling our thumbs (the pool was not an option as our community pool key has gotten sucked into the invisible black hole in my house which has also managed to suck up my Costco card, all of my socks and every portable electronic charger we've ever purchased).
Someone (me?) had the genius idea to go see the new Sandra Bullock "All About Steve" just to get us out of the house. I knew it was going to be a disappointment, and decidedly my colon agreed. Midway through the movie (I'll spare you the plot) I was overcome with a pain that I haven't felt since my doctor induced labor for my first born back in 1995. As I clutched my stomach I had a vision of telling my harrowing story of giving birth in a dark theater on TLC's show "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant" (yes this is a real show and although I've never seen it, I'm guessing that the women interviewed are toothless hillbillies or really, really fat.) The contraction passed but came back during the climax of the movie, right when Sandra Bullock's character falls into an abandoned mine and Bradly Cooper realizes that she is not a crazy stalker but an amazing woman (because undeniably anyone who falls into a mine instantly goes from crazy nut job to becoming the most amazing person on the planet). Despite being knee-deep in the intricate movie plot, I knew I had to act. I limped to the bathroom, hunched over like an 80-year old woman with a wicked case of osteoporosis, only to discover that the god damn movie theater put the bathrooms upstairs. What kind of institution makes you pay $4.50 for a large coke and puts their bathrooms upstairs? The diabolical kind, that's who.
I may be wrong but in retrospect I think my colon was protesting against the sucky Sandra Bullock movie. As soon as I got home I was fine and my colon didn't even quiver during the hour long emasculating Fox Reality show "Hollywood Househusbands" (and yes this is also a real show).