After many months of talking up "the movie theatre" as a place of untold wonder and giant chocolate bars, today we took Bridget to see her very first film on the big screen.

Back in October, I'd toyed with the idea of taking her to see Where The Wild Things Are, and Bridget seemed at least kind of into it. But I quickly realized how thoroughly Spike Jonze et al weren't marketing the movie towards kids. They were after the nostalgia set—people who'd grown up with the book and who've since grown a little more cynical and callous. You know, people who've become adults.

This parody, by Tom the Dancing Bug, sums up the new mindset nicely.

So we didn't take her. It was for the best, I think. (Eventually I did see the movie, and enjoyed it, too, though even by my adult standards it seemed about 20 minutes too long.)

Then today, kind of out of nowhere, Katie asked Bridget during lunch if she wanted to see if there were any kids movies showing. Disney's Princess and the Frog had been our back-up plan ever since Wild Things fell through, and sure enough, it was showing 45 minutes from then. We went for it.

And it worked! About as well as can be expected, I guess. For some reason the theatre was packed, and she sat on our laps the whole time, eating a Kinder Surprise and drinking from a cup of smuggled milk. I suspect the spectacle of South Edmonton Common was impressive enough for a first timer.

The movie was pleasant, with a bunch of cajun, Randy Newman-penned songs to keep Bridget distracted from thinking too much about the villain's cadre of shadow monsters, which are pretty much the best way to guarantee toddler nightmares I can think of. (Hey kids! What if your shadow could reach out and strangle you? Well, food for thought. Bye!)

There were also goofy frog dances, a firefly whose haplessness verged on Eeyore territory, and the usual junk about staying true to yourself and following your dreams. Nice. I could take her to movies like this once a week until forever.

Of course, at 97 minutes long, Bridget did ask to go home several times. It happens. In these circumstances, sitting at the end of the row was critical: turns out you can appease a 3 year old for a full 15 minutes just by letting her sit in the aisle.