Guess what, awesome readers? I survived the weekend!
As you can see from me writing this, I did not get transformed into a zombie. (I’ve never actually met a zombie but I’m pretty sure they’re illiterate.)
Nor did I lose my sense of identity from cleaning up after the teenage invasion.
Confession: I’m almost disappointed.
Why?
Well . . .
You know how when you unexpectedly discover that your house is about to be invaded by a herd of teenage boys that will be shooting a movie and suddenly you’re like, “Oh. My. God.”
And then you find out that the bowl of yuck in your fridge is actually raw bacon strips soaking in cream of tomato soup because the movie is about zombies and there needs to be a lot of blood and guts because it’s a prop and you’re like, “Oh. My. God.”
And then you find out that you have a part in the movie but are told not to worry because you get to play yourself – a mom – so no pressure there and by the way that bowl of guts in the fridge is actually YOUR guts because you die in your one and only scene and you’re like, “Oh. My. God.”
Well none of that happened because the boys decided that it would be “way cooler” if they shot the scenes WITHOUT blood and then add it in after as a “special effect”.
Also, I kind of got fired from my part when the director (my son) decided that one of the dogs would make a better victim.
So no blood. No acting gig. And no big mess.
(Except for the plethora of shoes and boots at my front door but luckily that cleared itself up when the movie crew went home at the end of the day.)
Oh but I do have this for you. It’s the scene where my son is eating Jed, the dog. You don’t really see the dog because he was trying to hide under the coffee table. We didn’t actually know this about Jed but apparently he’s camera shy.
PS. According to my son, that noise is exactly the sound that zombies make when they’re eating. “Exactly.”
This made me laugh out loud and harken back to the days about 10 years ago when I was a “mature student” in film school (I went there for the writing). And boy, did everyone want me to play the “mom” parts. Such a great thing to hear, that you’re being asked to play mom in all the 19 year olds’ movies because at 25 you are the old geezer.
Proof that who we spend time with affects how we feel about ourselves. I remember feeling old at 24 because I had a friend who was 21 🙂
Oh – sorry that the plan changed and you didn’t get to be part of the huge zoombie attack and mess. Glad that you didn’t have a super huge disaster to clean up!!
All good. I was glad at the end of the day 🙂
I am so glad that you didn’t spend part of your weekend covered in bacon dripping with cream of tomato soup. I would do a lot of things for my kids… but I don’t know if I could bring myself to do that. 😛
Me too! And I guess you never know what you’ll do – or how far you’ll go – until . . .