Poetic Justice

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Published: 24 May 2009 7:15 AM GMTPosted in: Justice, Movies, TeenTags: , ,
Poetic Justice

{This Mom “Fail” is brought to you by Musingwoman. You can visit Musingwoman at her inspirational and thought-provoking blog In Three Words…}

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 SCENE ONE
 
My teenage daughter takes movie watching very seriously. She turns off her phone, she must see every second (opening and ending credits included), and she hates to be interrupted.
 
All of which I respect. Usually.
 
One night I brought groceries home after work. While my son unloaded the bags, I went upstairs to ask my daughter if she’d help put things away.
 
As I approached her room I heard sounds within but didn’t stop to really listen. I knocked, opened the door and stuck my head in. She paused the TV and glared.
 
Oops.
 
Come to find out she was watching the Japanese horror film, Ringu 0, and was right in the middle of the terrifying ending.
 
I apologized profusely and slunk back out.

She didn’t stay angry for long. When she came downstairs she happily went with me to the store, because I’d forgotten something.

As we walked through the parking lot, though, she said sometimes she identifies so strongly with a film character that she moves like her afterwards. In this case, she was walking like Sadako, the revengeful and murderous young woman in Ringu 0.
 
She stared at me.

“I’ll never interrupt a movie again,” I said. “Just don’t hurt me.”

She grinned. “I’ll think about it.”
 
SCENE TWO
 
The next day I was notified that the penalty for my crime of interrupting a critical scene in a movie was to sit down with my daughter and watch Ringu 0 from beginning to end…in complete and total silence.

The sentence was to be carried out that weekend. I awaited my fate with quiet resignation.

SCENE THREE

I saw Ringu 0 with my daughter.

Sitting on the floor in her room, my legs pulled up close, I watched in silence as the film slowly built in suspense. The horrific ending loomed nearer. Screams were heard. Gunshots. Then…

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Agh! My heart leaped into my throat.

My daughter angrily hit the pause button, and my son opened the door.

After he asked his question and left, my daughter and I looked at each other.

“Wow,” I said, “that really was a punishment.” 

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