A Parent and Child at the Movies

I’m drinking my morning green tea out of a The Wedding Singer mug. It was a gift from my daughter Sofia, to add to my collection, from when she caught the musical on Broadway. I usually don’t drink out of my collection, but The Wedding Singer … seriously? Have I failed so horribly as a parent?

It is with some embarrassment that I admit that The Wedding Singer is my daughter’s favorite movie. I tried to be a good influence … okay, maybe good isn’t the word I’m looking for, but I tried to influence her judgment in some ways. As any parent knows, such influence goes just so far. Then she brings home the wavy-haired Jewish kid, forcing me to surrender to whatever fate brought him to us. Mazal tov, Adam Sandler.

An off-site parent for much of my daughter’s life, the weekends presented moments of opportunity for us to get to know one another and share our interests (as much as a parent can with their kid). Movies are a great generational leveler, especially if the parent prefers offbeat subject matter. I fall squarely into that category and freely confess to taking my daughter to see Beavis and Butthead Do America when she was four years old. Hey, it was a cartoon. Anyway, she’s been a B & B fan ever since, without falling into a slacker mentality.

When she was twelve, I took Sofia to see Team America: World Police. Hey, they were puppets. Anyway, she covered her eyes during the marionette sexual gymnastics, but thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the movie. She enjoyed it so much that she gave a rave review of it to my ex-wife. After acting on Sofia’s recommendation, her mother read me her version of the riot act. Again, they were friggin’ puppets!

At age fourteen, my ex took Sofia to see Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan and Sofia suggested I take her to see it again soon after. Good choice, kid. I laughed continually, even as I (if you can imagine) was appalled at certain portions. In that respect, the child had taught the parent that cultural learnings are not so one-sided in an evolving relationship.

Now that my daughter is preparing to head off to SUNY Plattsburg, after a commendable high school stint (First Violin in the High School Orchestra and Chamber and recipient of a scholarship for her volunteer work at a local hospital), I can sit here, busting my buttons with pride at not totally screwing things up. So what if I have to endure a little Adam Sandler? It seems a small price to pay for the privilege of pointing her out to people and saying, “that’s my daughter and she survived, even thrived, in spite of her lunatic dad.”





Abstract Invention by Charlie Accetta is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.