Forgive me if you’ve heard this one before. When you are so old you forget how old you are (my brain is convinced I’m 47) and your blog is old enough to vote in elections, sometimes you will repeat yourself. I’m sure I’ve told this story in the page of this blog before, but it’s front of mine right now because the trailer for the new Lion King dropped sometime during Thanksgiving.
“Remember” the trailer intones, and my family is all, “Remember?” and then smiling at me like a bunch of hungry hyenas.
See, back in the summer of 1994 I took then fourteen-year-old Sister #4 out for a dinner and a movie to celebrate our birthdays. We went to Pablo’s (bleh) her favorite local restaurant and then caught a showing of “The Lion King” at the Shakopee movie theater which was jam-packed that night.
And then Mufasa died and I literally lost my shit. I ugly cried so hard that I couldn’t catch my breath and people around us asked if I was okay and my poor fourteen-year-old sister nearly died of embarrassment. The story is much better when she tells it. I wonder if she’ll see this new version with me.