Brother Tarzan

This might sound ridiculous to some, and fall under the “bad parenting” category to others, but I don’t seem to mind my children watching movies as long as they do it in costume. 

When I was a kid, we spent a ridiculous amount of rainy days watching old movies and playing dress up. All the dancing and dressing up would have been a lot more fun for me if I could have only been cast as a girl. But alas, in my youthful pudgy yet sturdy state, I was more equipped for lifting than being lifted, and with my raspy voice (because I was a loud child), I was more suited to tenor than soprano. 

Don’t think this stopped me from claiming female characters as my own (although my sisters never honored such roles and continually called me “Curly” and “Benjamin”).

I remember playing 7 Brides. It was always a mad rush for Dorcas, but being fourth in line (because my big sisters always pulled seniority) I usually ended up with Martha. I tried to like her, but secretly coveted Dorcas and her 14 inch waist. Every bride was usually taken–except for Sarah. Does anyone remember her? Long dark hair? Stupid smile? Stuck with Frank (“Come on, Frank!”)? A bit of an over-actor? For some reason she was the junky part reserved for out of town guests and after school friends. 

Anyway, today my son wanted to be Young Tarzan from the Disney movie. So I cut up an old Halloween costume and he’s currently crouching around corners and swinging from ropes, hollering at the top of his lungs. 

Hey, Rex just introduced me to his “Brother Tarzan”. I love kids. Here’s a visual. Rex insisted on a costume as well.