Godzilla

My husband has put a ton of Godzilla movies in our Netflix cue. (que?). And the first one arrived a couple of nights ago. A serious stinker, probably about 10 years old.

My 6 year old girl is kind of a sensitive little thing and I have to admit, I'm protective. We don't have cable - which means we don't have TV. She reads a lot and draws a lot and still wanted to be "a princess or a fairy" when she grows up, at least the last time I asked her.

We decide that it's probably ok for her to watch this awful Godzilla movie (it's in Japanese too and she can't read the subtitiles fast enough to keep up) as she'll probably get bored in a few minutes. Nope.

"WHAT is THAT!?"
"AAAAHHHH!"
"Who's Mecha G?"
"I think Mothra looks like a huge hairy butterfly"
"Poor butterfly, why did Godzilla take it's leg! It's so sad! And it's gross!"
"Why didn't he just walk around the building instead of crashing through?"
"Poor little mothra babies!"
"Why are the fairies just dressed like girls? And they're not modest."
"Mecha Godzilla is kind of like the fire benders. It shoots lightning."
"Oh NOOOOO!"

and best of all..

"I wish I was a huge metal monster who could knock buildings down!"

Dad fell asleep in his recliner.

The next day daddy mentions that there are more Godzilla movies coming in the mail and asks "do you want to watch them with me?"

My sweet little, blond, bow wearing daughter, while holding a barbie, pumps her fist in the air and hollers "YEESSSSSSS!"

Good heavens.