When family movie night turns into fright night | THE MOM STOP

I’ve had a fear of sharks as long as I can remember, but my mother can pinpoint the exact moment when I became fearful of the giant fish -- in 1984, when my dad let me watch the movie “Jaws” on TV. I was 3 years old.

For months afterward, I was scared of the bathtub and event the sink, scared that there may be sharks lurking down the drain.

Later that year, when my parents took me on the “It’s a Small World” ride during my first trip to Disney World, apparently I screamed as if the boat was going to sink, and I was convinced there were sharks in the water. Apparently, this was not the happiest place on earth for my 3-year-old self.

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Forget swimming in a lake -- that fear followed clear through elementary school until I was a teenager.

Dad didn't had the best track record on deciding which movies were appropriate for children. When I was 9, during a visit to California, Dad took me to see “The Godfather Part III.”  I was just excited to go see a movie in the movie theater with my dad. I don’t think I realized at the time what the movie was about or that it was rated “R.” I’m not sure I even understood what “R” rating meant at that point.

But the one thing I remember about that movie, which I haven’t seen in the 33 years since, is the scene of Mary Corleone being shot in the chest. That scene was pretty graphic for a fourth-grader.

When it comes to my own kids, we haven’t tiptoed too much around what they watch. Our son became obsessed with all things "Star Wars" soon after he watched the first movie while he was still in preschool. Light sabers and all, he had soon watched all of the "Star Wars" films.

Similarly, our oldest daughter started watching "Harry Potter" movies around second grade. While those are not all together explicitly violent, the movies aren’t rated G, either.

But for the most part, we do try to stick to family films. Last weekend, during a family “movie night” at home, I offered a dog movie to our 8-year-old daughter. I decided to pick a movie from my childhood, something I knew our youngest child hadn’t seen before, but would probably enjoy: “Beethoven.”

And she did enjoy it, at first. She oohed and awed at how cute the Saint Bernard puppy was, asking if we could get a puppy “like that.” She cuddled on the couch with one of our (considerably less fluffy and not as large) boxers, commenting on the antics of the dog “Beethoven” in the movie. She loved it. Until she didn’t.

Granted, the movie "Beethoven" came out in 1992, and I probably haven’t seen it since I was 11. I remembered the movie was about a dog, though that is about all I could remember. But it was somewhere around half way through the movie when the dad in the film packed Beethoven up in the family station wagon to be put to sleep at the veterinarian that our daughter was crying and screaming at the TV.

Not just crocodile tears. Her face was beet red, streaked with tears as she hid behind a pillow and yelled at the actor who portrayed the dad not to kill the dog.

It was at this point that I contemplated skipping to the end of the movie, but instead I paused it and explained to her that no dog dies in the movie. Beethoven really lives.

“Really?” my sweet girl asked, still sniffling behind the pillow.

Suddenly, I was glad we hadn’t chosen “Old Yeller.” We finished the movie, which she ended up loving, despite the tears. The next day, the first thing she wanted to do was to invite her second-grade best friend over so she could watch “Beethoven” too.

Instead, I encouraged them to go play outside -- we had had enough “scarring” from movies for one weekend. And just like I still remember watching “Jaws” or “The Godfather Part III,” I have a feeling our girl will remember the first time she watched “Beethoven.”

The difference is, hopefully, that she ended up loving the movie and she will want to watch it again.

Lydia Seabol Avant writes The Mom Stop for The Tuscaloosa News. Reach her at momstopcolumn@gmail.com.

This article originally appeared on The Tuscaloosa News: Family movie night rules: Make sure the dog lives | THE MOM STOP