But Daughter was given the movie at horse riding for her birthday. And on horse riding days we get home so very much later... So instead, I just put the movie on for her, and then set about making dinner, and school lunches, and emptying backpacks, and probably a load or two of laundry for good measure. Because deep down, I didn't really want to watch the movie then. And neither did her brother.
So when she emerged sobbing, dripping and snotty from her room, saying: "Something's wrong with Flicka! She won't get up! I think she may be dead. Flicka!" I was, officially, the worst. mother. ever.
Thankfully, the horse lived. Note to self: next time, watch the animal movie with the child.
Indies First Celebration at Tattered Cover
15 hours ago