Mission Mompossible

The other night I watched Mission Impossible for the first time in years. And as I watched I realized why I will never be a secret agent. Not because I can’t hold my breath for more than five minutes while I defuse a bomb underwater. Not because I can’t scale an elevator shaft in an evening gown. And not even because I’m probably taller (and heavier) than Tom Cruise with Suri on his back. No, not for any of those reasons.

I could never be a secret agent because I wouldn’t be able to listen to the entire secret recording without rewinding it. By the time it self-destructed I’d be turning to the person next to me asking, “Did you hear what he just said?”

The truth is, I’ve become my mother (bless you, mom!). In order to follow a movie I have to rewind it at least 5 times or ask my children to 1) repeat what’s just been said or 2) turn up the television, again.

Now there are valid reasons for this. One is my poor hearing. My mother was right; all that rock music did make me go deaf. But more problematic than that is my newly acquired lack of focus.

Before I had children I could watch three movies in a row, sitting for more than 362 minutes in a wooden chair watching B-grade films without missing one scene. In fact, to the chagrin of my co-watchers, I probably would have deconstructed each before the credits had run, cross-analyzing the films like a graduate student with nothing better to do (because I was). I would use words like “acquiescent,” “theoretically,” and “banal.” Yeah. I was a real smarty-pants.

But not so much these days. I’m lucky if I can watch a Pixar film and get all the adult jokes the first time through. And the phrase I’m most likely to say while watching said film is, “What did he just say?”

Which takes me back to my future as a secret agent. It ain’t gonna happen. Not that I was planning on it or anything; it’s just nice to have options. I’ve decided this is how my encounter with that secret recording would probably go down.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it…

“Zack, get off the counter! And Kaleb, you put that cookie back… Did he just
say Prague? Am I supposed to defuse an underwater bomb in Praugue?”

…and scale an elevator shaft in your evening gown with Suri on your back…

“Did he say sell the pretty little surrey with the fringe on top, or scale an elevator shaft with Suri on my back?”

We would not do well if the safety of our nation rested in my ever-so-chapped hands.

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