Sydney and I watched another one of my favorite Disney classics tonight: The Cat From Outer Space. I've always loved this movie, and it hadn't occurred to me how many times I'd seen it, or how much I had committed to memory, until I was in the midst of it and remembering every tone, phrase, movement and piece of dialog. Every second of it was like a cozy, warm blanket. Comfort watching at its finest. And, happy bonus, she actually really enjoyed the movie. It is, she tells me, one of her top four movies ever. (She can't remember the top three, but knows that this one is fourth on her list.)
But we only watched this movie because I flatly refused to watch her first choice, The Fox and the Hound. That movie is sad, and makes me cry. I didn't want to watch a crying movie, so asked her to find something else. Bambi? No. The Cat from Outer Space was her third choice.
But what's better is that I also suggested Gus, and she seemed entertained and intrigued by the idea of a donkey playing football. I think Gus will be our next new movie, and I am beyond excited to watch it with her. Nothing better than listening to her giggle at movies that have made me giggle for years and years.