My son came home from school.  It was Monday night...a week night...a school night.  Normally we would have just chilled out watched TV and went to bed.  I had an urge though (need?).  When I asked my son if we wanted to go to the movies, he got excited quickly.  I tried desperately to get my wife to go with us, but she was tired.  She insisted we still go without her.  Even though it was going to be a later night than an 11-year-old should have during the week, it seemed like a good idea.

So off we were to immerse ourselves in the 3D world of Middle Earth.  A world of Hobbits, Giants, Elves and Trolls, where heroes can be of the champion or unassuming variety.  A world where magic is real and destiny seems to be merely as simple as following a script.

There was a jumbo popcorn laced with WMD levels of butter, a massive Dr. Pepper that would have made Mike Bloomberg soil his shorts and some conglomerate of cookie dough with chocolate covering.  There were stylish glasses in which my son thought he looked so cool. 

There was quick-whispered banter between the two of us, most of the night spent with his head leaning back on my arm.  I couldn't tell you much of any of the exchanges, but it was a great temporary escape.  Nothing threatened the immersed experience, except for one simple comment he made in response to God only knows what.  "Yeah, but in real life, the good guys don't always win."

My response, "Yeah, that's true buddy," came out filled with false confidence, poise and wisdom.  I expected myself to follow with something reassuring and prophetic, but there was nothing coming, and the exchange ended there.

 Part of me was proud of how rational my young son was, part of me wished he could have just stayed in the movie.