I just finished watching Toy Story 3 with my family, and I just want to say the following.
I am sorry for all the times I cued Anne of Avonlea to the part where Anne says “I don’t want diamond sunbursts or marble halls; I just want you,” and then called you into the living room and pushed play just so I could watch you get all weepy.
I am sorry for laughing at you for crying at Folgers commercials.
I am sorry for my impression of you laughing and crying at the same time at the end of every Hallmark movie of the week.
Tonight I sat on my couch, trying to hold back tears, red in the face. And when my sons looked at me because I couldn’t keep back a particularly violent sniffle, I started to laugh and said, “Don’t look at me.”
It was then that I realized that I have become just like you.
Please pass the Kleenex.