Last night was the Golden Globes and I usually find myself compelled to tune in, which I had every intention of doing. I had watched a bit of the red carpet arrivals, oohing and aahing and ughing over the designer duds and expensive hairstyles that were frizzing in the Hollywood rain.
I was geared up, ready.
We had just finished eating dinner, and I was going to clean up a little in the 5 minutes before showtime. I hate leaving a really messy kitchen because that just leaves more work for me in the morning. Except in that brief time, J found the remote control and flipped through to see what else was on. A few channels in, and Buzz’s attention was caught.
The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Crap.
Buzz perched himself on the couch, his milk in one hand, the Toy Story book he had been skimming in the other. He sat captivated. Changing the channel to a boring awards show now would break his heart.
“Ninja turtles!”, he exclaimed, pointing at the television.
Yes, Buzz, I know.
So much for the Golden Globes. I’m sure I didn’t miss much anyway, right?