This weekend, like many women in my demographic, I went to see ‘Bad Moms.’ Now, before you roll your eyes and assume it’s a dumb Hollywood interpretation of modern motherhood, I’ll tell you, I thought the same thing. Especially when I heard it was written by two men! They called it “a love letter to (their) wives” –my reaction to that was: “You two wonks can kiss my love letter! Get two bitches to write the movie and then you’ll get my $17 + $56 in popcorn, not to mention the $20 worth of tequila in my purse!” But, I went anyway. It turned out to be the best chic flick/car flick I’ve watched in a long time.
As I walked in to the theater mildly buzzed with a BFF on each arm, I saw a swarm of giggly, middle-aged, chardonnay infused females buzzing around the concession stand and realized, “F*ck, I”m a total cliche!” This was reinforced by Jordan, the zit-faced teenager with a broken arm who collected my tickets and asked as he ripped them in half, “Are you a bunch of Bad Moms going to see Bad Moms?” My response, “Yeah, and I’m gonna break your other arm if you don’t zip it, Slick.” But it was only uphill from there, because it got very real in that movie theater.
This is Mila Kunis before she loses it– her composure, her marriage, her job and her ability to fake it anymore. She’s checking her watch to see exactly how late she is. She is overwhelmed, over-scheduled and worst of all, under-entertained in her boring, purely practical ride. So sad…
And this is her after.
Before..mini van. After..vintage Dodge Challenger.
Before her breakdown, the Challenger sat in the back of her driveway, under a cover, waiting for her husband to drive it every other Sunday. Isn’t that always the way? The husband gets the second, cool car. It’s his special thing, his happy place, his personal indulgence..a boy thing. And it’s not their fault. We moms think it’s off-limits to us. We think our happy place has to be a hot bath with vanilla scented candles and a glass of Rose. For many women it is and that’s great. But, I’m here to tell you that just as many women tell me stories about cars they’ve loved as men. Just as many women I know have midlife crisis cars as men– a friend of mine just kicked her husband to the curb and replaced him with a 392 Scat Pack– a modern version of Kunis’ ride (well played, M!). And many women I know, including myself, like to drive around looking like this:
You know who else loves it? The kids. My favorite request from my offspring is, “Mommy, press the M button!”
Because it’s not only good for me to drive fast, feel empowered and enjoy myself behind the wheel, it’s good for my kids. If I’m not showing them how to enjoy life and have fun, how will they learn?
So here’s to the moms that don’t play it safe. Here’s to the moms that remember that they are people first, moms second. Here’s to the drinkers, the swearers, the dirty joke makers, may they ruin gluten-free bake sales with store-bought donut holes forever!
And from the looks of the women that gathered outside the theater to talk about Bad Moms, I’m pretty sure that Challenger sales are headed up!