I Still Blame The Goonies

Last Tuesday we went to Red Rocks Amphitheater to see The Goonies. Together, we watched one of our favorite movies surrounded by towering red rocks and the glowing skyline of Denver. It was one of the last of our summer family activities and it was awesome.

As the scene approached where Chunk spies the Fratelli's racing down main street, we all elbowed each other and laughed. So, in honor of our Goonies night, I'm reposting this story from 2012 when the girls were tiny and Sawyer was a four-year old with a bone to pick. This time I've added a video of the lasting effect The Goonies had on our boy. It's one of our absolute favorites.

From the Blogger Me of 2012: I don't really cuss in front of my kids. On a good day my worst offense is saying stupid and on a bad day it's crap. Don't get me wrong, when the kids are not around I can hold my own with any sailor. But for the most part we're G to PG rated for language at home.

As for movies, the kids all know (to an annoying extent as they inform other parents and children) that they are not allowed to watch PG-13 movies because it's inappropriate for kids their age. Inappropriate, usually pronounced in-u-po-pee-et.

Needless to say, Sean and I have given ourselves small pats on the back as language goes. But all good and smug things must come to an end. This summer we drove 1,600 miles to Florida. A three day road trip which amounted to something like the Cannes Film Festival, except the movies previewed were not cool, the plots were thin and nobody famous attended.

Translation - the kids watched lame movies for three days straight until Sean and I pulled out our ace in the hole - The Goonies. A movie we would enjoy listening to, PG rated so age appropriate for the kiddos, cool because it's from the 80's, and adult friendly because it would provide our family with great lines we could use on each other like ro-cky road, boobie trap, dat's what I said, and do the truffle shuffle.

It was a perfect plan. Until the part where Chunk sees the cops chasing the Fratelli's down main street. You know the part. As the cars speed by, Chunk peers excitedly out the window to watch the action and as he does smashes his pizza and strawberry shake on the glass yelling, "AWW, SHIT!"

Sean and I froze. Maybe they didn't notice. We glance at each other and wait. Nothing happens and the movie continues. Whew. Lesson learned. Apparently, movie ratings from the eighties are about as up to date as acid washed jeans and Aqua Net.

Then we hear crayons hit the floor, followed by the thump of a coloring book, a small four-year-old voice saying with perfect intonation and admirable placement, "AWW SHIT!"

I had to hand it to him, he totally used that word appropriately.

I stay calm, after all it's not the kid's fault, it's The Goonies. So I say gently, "Sawyer, please don't use that word. It's a bad word and you should not say it."

"Say what, Mommy?"

"That word, Sawyer."

"Which word?"

Ella pipes up, "You're not supposed to say SHIT, Sawyer."

"Yeah, Sawyer," Keira adds, "SHIT is not appropriate."

"SHIT? I'm not supposed to say SHIT?"

Sean groans. I am at a complete and total loss as the kids begin discussing the many inappropriate uses of the word SHIT.

"Okay!" I say at last. "I think we can all agree that it's an inappropriate word and we shouldn't use it."  There. That should do it.

And then, two hours later, we hear the soft thud of a cup falling to the floor, followed by french fries and crayons. That same small voice, "AWW, SHIT!"




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