You watched the clip and prob­a­bly think it will lead to some pro­found words of wis­dom from me. You ask what intro­spec­tive thought process will flow from my fin­gers onto the page.

Wrong.

This is all about me mak­ing my son shake his head and won­der how it is pos­si­ble he came from my womb.

Man­cub has viewed this movie, The Goonies, more times than I can pos­si­bly count. Between this, Uncle Buck and Big Trou­ble in Lit­tle China, I don’t know which he’s watched more.

This par­tic­u­lar scene stuck in my head and I often rephrase it to suit what­ever sit­u­a­tion we are in.

For instance, the other day we were in the car. Shame­fully, there was trash col­lect­ing. You know, water bot­tles, receipts, Yu-Gi-Oh! pack­ag­ing, gum wrap­pers, junk mail. You get the idea. Inex­plic­a­bly, I broke out into a mono­logue about “in here, this is OUR trash. This is our trash IN HERE. Out THERE is it is THEIR trash, but in HERE it is our trash.”

He pat­ted me on the head and declared it would be alright. “For­get your meds, mom?”