My mother is relentless. She got the box set of Where The Red Fern Grows, and Where The Red Fern Grows II. EVERYONE knows that it’s one of the saddest movies EVER. Ok, well if you’re close in age to me, you know this. I remember vividly how broken hearted I was by this movie, as well as Old Yeller.

Yet for some asinine reason, I allowed her to persuade N and I into watching Where The Red Fern Grows. N adamantly refused, he must have sensed the looming sadness and his fight or flight response kicked in. I mean, he did everything right down to ask my grandma if he could come to her house while we watched “that stupid fern grows movie that Gran is FORCING me to watch and I don’t want to”…

When I tell you the child didn’t want to watch the movie, I’m telling you he all but threw a hissy fit. However, yet again, for some absolutely stunning and unknown reason, I joined her in the persuading of him to watch the movie. Finally, she just put the movie on. Eventually, he took notice and got still enough to watch it.

Naturally, right around the time I notice he’s watching the movie and starting to smile (to himself, if he knew anyone was looking it would be the sourpuss face of course) I realize what I’ve done… I have just set my one and only dear son up for heart break. Who does that? What kind of mother am I? I knew when the persuasion started how it would leave him feeling, yet I did it anyway! Is it some sick right of passage as a mother?

We all know what’s coming. The damn dogs die. My kid cries. I cry. That sucked!

Then dear sweet “Gran” tries to persuade us to watch part 2!! I had enough, and so did N. We just couldn’t take anymore, so we didn’t watch. We can only handle getting attached to and losing so many dogs per day…

N says, of the movie… “Gran FORCED me to watch that movie, the red fern grows and it was sad and it DRAMATIZED me!”

Dramatized is right. It was a lot of drama, on screen and off.