Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is one of my favorite John Hughes’ movies and I was tickled pretty in pink when my kids wanted to watch it on a recent family movie night. We had one of those weekends packed with so many activities (including celebrating my first born’s 13th birthday), we actually needed a touch of “Bueller, Bueller” to help balance things out. And yes, I did break down when I looked through my son’s baby pictures and turned to see a man-child of 13 years standing before me. Oh boy, it’s starting. Thankfully, he’s a good kid. Very sweet. But the fact that he didn’t want to blow out 13 candles in front of his friends made me feel like he’s already 16! My baby! It’s going fast. It’s only a matter of time before we’ll be shopping for college dorm supplies. And I digress. (I’m still in shock that I’m officially a mother of a teen, so thank you for allowing me to keep rambling so I can stay in this state of perpetual mommy denial a little longer.) So anyhoo, I thoroughly enjoyed the fact that my kids “get” Ferris. The “righteous dude” is a witty, playful, grab-high-school-by-the-car-horns genius. We fear him and adore him simultaneously. That unsung hero that none of us, even in our totally-on-sale Forenza jeans and 1980’s bi-level hair-cut, were brave enough to even try to be.
Granted, there are some bad words in the movie. So, being the Mrs. Goldberg momma-bear that I am, I simply pretended to cough or sneeze every time I heard a swear word in the movie. There were a few “Ahh sh**t –COUGH COUGH, and a$$– A-aaaa-chews” moments coming from my side of the couch. At least it’s not a show where zombies rip people’s heads off. (Something my soon-to-be-10-year-old will not be allowed to watch until she’s in college!) There’s nothing horrible. Just a few bad words that seem to automatically come with any 1980’s-something PG 13-rated movie. Aside from that, it was perfect. My kids giggled along to Ferris’s computer-generated “sick” stereo, his hilarious antics, his sister, Mr. Rooney, and Cameron. And they actually learned a few things from Ferris too.
When my daughter woke up the next morning, all I could hear was a faint noise down the hall.
“Mommy. Moooooooooooommmmmmmmmy.”
Her voice started to get a little louder. I was very concerned, so I ran as fast as I could. I found her, face down, lying in bed, wimpering. “Mom, I feel queasy. My stomach hurts.”
“Oh no, honey, are you OK?”
“I don’t feel so good. I feel really faint.”
“Oh no, honey. Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?”
My daughter then lifts her head, turns to me, and with a shhhhhugar-eating grin, says, “Gotcha, mom!”
Son of a!!!!!!
