Lately, films have started to affect me. Not all films, just certain ones.
The latest is Toy Story 2. First-born and I watched it last night on the laptop at the hotel before she turned in for the night. And after a hard day's fun at EuroDisney, she discovered that the hotel features the Disney channel (obviously) and they were showing Toy Story 2 again. So we watched it. Again.
For those who haven't had the pleasure, there's a section in the film where a toy sings a sad little song about being discarded as her owner grows up. Ordinarily, I'd airily wave this aside as targetted schmaltz.
But this time I sat, with First-born leaning on me, and tears streamed down my face.
First-born looked up and asked: "Why are you crying, Dad?"
I wanted to reply: "Because I'm worried that now you don't see so much of me, you're going to grow up and away from me, and I'm going to miss all those moments that we would have shared and now won't, and you won't need me anymore, and I'll be like that toy under the bed"
Instead I said: "Something in my eye, I guess"
Damn.
