I Love You All the Same

But differently.

If you're a parent, you know what I mean.

My son? Is my heart. The girls are more cynical than us. They tease us even. And it most frequently shows up in reactions to movies.

I took them to see Amadeus last year. Anna exclaimed about the costumes and sets. Mary wanted to talk about Salieri's plot to kill Mozart. "He killed him with his mind!" she crowed. Frank? Frank was sobbing. He could not walk. We sat on a bench in the hallway of the theater until he could pull himself together enough to walk to the car. "They just threw him in the ground?!" He could not get over the ending.

This year I took Mary and Frank to see "Midnight in Paris" - their first Woody Allen movie. He's been a favorite of mine since high school. I even performed one of his plays in speech for a dramatic interpretation. To my delight, Mary and Frank loved the movie. If you have been around us in the last few months we have bought the movie for you, told you about it, or simply forced you to listen to us as we recite the dialogue from the movie. We love, love, love it.

Last night the kids and I filled out Oscar Ballots. Rather than pick what would win that might not be what he wanted to win, Frank picked every opportunity he could for "Midnight in Paris" to win. He was disappointed that Woody Allen wasn't at the Oscars to accept his Best Original Screenplay award. He was genuinely disappointed that the movie only won one Oscar.

He and I have the same heart. Or at least the same taste in movies.