One of the most enjoyable parts of raising children is reliving what have become mundane everyday events as exciting “firsts.”
But then, Gaston sneaks up on the Beast and stabs him to death. At this point I am a little uncertain about my choice to let him watch this. But it’s okay because Belle is by the Beast’s side and tells him she loves him before the last rose petal falls. Then, magic. I am not sure how to explain this to a (then) three year old, so I said it was a type of special medicine where they shoot light out of your extremities until you get better and an added benefit of this medical procedure is that if you are a Beast the light therapy transforms you into a long haired French prince. Again, keep in mind the movie is in Spanish and my son is 3 and not bilingual.
Next comes the part that I had totally blocked from my mind. G rated movies allow....gulp...animated kissing! Horror. What am I going to tell him about that? My husband and I are not the kissing in front of your kids or anyone or ever type so my palms are sweating like crazy. “Ugh No!!!” I inwardly cringe and imagine all the awkward questions that will likely ensue. All this as the Prince/Beast is spinning about.
And then Belle holds his face, and he brushes away a stray lock of her brown hair. The music crescendos. Inwardly, I am in a fetal position trying to think of a distraction but I can’t seem to find my voice. And then they kiss. And somehow Disney makes the animated kiss just as sensual as a human one. Their faces are practically one. It seems to be lasting for at least 10 minutes. I still can’t think of anything to say. Then, at last it’s over and everyone is happy and all I can mutter is, “Why would they do that?” Like I don’t know what a kiss is. Like I haven’t conceived three children. My approach is to play dumb.
What is that weird face smashing? Must be part of the strange firework light therapy.
Let’s never speak of this again.
(Probably another bad mom moment)
Based on Prompt #2 from my writer's collaborative...Say It With a Kiss
Kissing uses all five senses, which makes it an extremely sensuous act. It is a beginning and an end—the kiss hello and the kiss good-bye. There are a variety of romantic puckers (passionate, wet, teasing, rough, slow), as well as thrown-across-the-room kisses, tentative kisses, friendly pecks, and the reluctant ones that children give relatives or parents' friends. The poet Tess Gallagher's book Portable Kisses evokes a buffet of smooches.
Your first kiss is often etched in memory, and so is the solitary, experimental kind that you may have practiced on your arm, your pillow, or up against the mirror. Do you remember when you first found out French kissing involved touching tongues? I thought I would gag if I tried it, and I couldn't figure out how adults, who were forever concerned about germs, would willingly do something that seemed even more likely to spread a cold than drinking from someone else's soda bottle.
Write about kissing. Besides being fun to write about, it is an especially good practice for writing scenes between two people. (Approximately 500 words)