As of the last few months, I live with a mother of three
little brats between 3-5 years old. Every morning, usually very early on, the screams wake us up and, quite frankly, magic
starts to happen. I say that because, for as loud and 'seriously, it’s still
too early for this stuff' as they get, their mother shows an almost superhuman
level of patience. It is genuinely remarkable to see a mother in her element,
as it is most certainly something I could never hope to have the tolerance for
at any time. You’ve seen already how badly I react to films I don’t like; you
don’t want to see how I am with people of any age who annoy me. But of course,
much like their mother, I love those kids just as much as she does; probably helps that what I didn't mention earlier was that the mother that I live with is in fact my mother, and the brats my little brothers. I help out my mother as best I can with them, but it
does take a certain natural skill to be able to do this sort of thing day in,
day out. It is because of this that, despite a very obvious biological
difference between myself and what is meant to be the target audience for today’s
film, I somehow get the feeling that I will be able to relate somewhat to how a
mother would interpret such a feature. At least, as best as I am capable of
doing.
