One of my sister and I's, favorite things to do with our parents when we were kids was to go to the drive-in. A better evening could not be had (except when we had a babysitter and we got to eat T.V. dinners or when our parents had parties and we would sneak out of bed and try to catch our parents and their friends drunk). But going to the drive-in was a spectacularly good time. Before we left the house, my Dad would lay down the back seat of the station wagon and my mother would fill the back with blankets, Dani and I would change into our pajamas and we would all pile into the car for a night out on the town. The drive-in was full of treats and adventures! We could play on the swing sets in our pajamas before the movie started. We could eats bowls of popcorn in the car. And on a "good" night we could turn around and sneak-a-peek at whatever movie was playing on the 2nd screen behind us (The other movie was usually Rated R, which meant we could either see people doing "sexiness' or murderous rampages. Either way, it was win/win!). But the best part was at the end, when we fell asleep in the car and daddy carried us into the house and lovingly tucked us into bed. That was my very, very favorite thing.
When dad tucked me into bed, I felt completely loved and safe. Sometimes I would purposely avoid bedtime just so I could dose off on the couch and my dad would pick me up and trudge up the stairs to my room. From time to time, I would even fake sleep to get the lift to bed, which usually worked (if my sneaky little sister didn't try the same dang thing that night because she would always win based on youth and cuteness... technically she still does). Getting carried to bed shouldn't have meant so much to me, but no matter what happened or how much things changed, that one thing, that one single act of love would return me to a place of safety and emotional sanctuary. I know it sounds silly but it's true. I blame those damn Disney Princesses! (Well, at least the white ones... no offense but Mulan, Jasmine, or Sacajawea, I mean Pocahontas, wouldn't have waited to be carried to bed... Belle probably wouldn't have either but Snow White and Cinderella would have. Ariel definitely would have, but in her defense, the bitch had fins for legs!) Anyway they pre-disposed me to the need for a White Knight in my life (or a Black Knight, or a Chicano Knight, or even a really hot Asian one.. Seriously, think about it...Jet Li sweeping you off to bed. No bad, eh?). But eventually I got too big (literally too big) to be carried up to my room (I was probably about 10 years old and 140 lbs) and when I finally got thin enough again, I was too old and in my first trimester of a scandalous teen pregnancy! But my dad still did little things to reassure me (hanging up the phone when I had fallen asleep talking to my friends, turning off my turntable when I had drifted off listening to Prince, or just making sure I had enough covers and whispering good night.)
I miss my Dad a lot and wish I would've stayed small longer. On my wedding night, my husband DID actually carry me over the threshold (I made him promise he would only attempt three steps... I didn't want to kill him when I had just taken legal possession of him) but carrying me to bed is out of the question. He is a STRONG man, my personal Prince Charming, but I am not a small girl and since I drool like a St. Bernard when I sleep, carrying me from the couch to the bedroom would probably be the equivalent of trying to tote an oily walrus from the bathtub to the kitchen sink. But just like my dad, he does little things to reassure me that I am loved and safe. I think my favorite thing, though, is when I fall asleep reading, he closes my book, takes off my glasses, kisses my forehead and then whispers good night. (Sometimes I pretend to be asleep, just so he will do it!)
I think even the Disney Princesses love that...
except for Ariel, that fishy-bitch lives under water, so I doubt she reads any books in bed.
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