Besides a steady paycheck and "free" healthcare, watching the last of the Harry Potter movie series six days before the official opening day is the best thing I have gotten out of The Hubby being in the Army.
And it was awesome. Like really awesome. It evoked emotions in me I didn't think I had for Harry, Hermione and Ron. The film ended with me satisfied, and yet completely depressed for the rest of the day. I didn't want it to end.
I was seated next to a little boy who drew a lightning bolt scar on his forehead and wore a Gryffindor tie. I asked him if he was a big Harry fan and he shook his head and mumbled, "No." Little liar. Then he grabbed a piece of paper and put it in front of his face and shielded himself from me. Maybe I should never have any kids.
I was crying before events even occurred because I am very familiar with the novels. The little boy cried, too! I need to watch this movie in the comfort of my own home by myself so that I can truly bawl without concern of doing the ugly cry or my mascara running.
P.S. I had forgotten to take a picture of my ticket before I handed it over. I went back afterwards and asked for a ticket so that I could have a souvenir, but really I wanted to take a picture of it so that I could blog about it. I was just too embarrassed to tell him. You see what I do for you, readers? All five of you?