A Harsh Truth
You're never too old to enjoy Disney. Never, ever, ever, EVER.
Sharon smiled politely as the police officer noticed the books in her seat.
"Something for the grandkids, huh? Well ... I suppose, since it's the holidays ... I'll just let you off with a warning this time. But please, ma'am, slow down in future. You want to be able to read those books to your grandkids for a long, long time."
Sharon didn't want to spoil the mood by correcting the officer, but she knew the truth. The books weren't for Jake or Ella or Dakody. They weren't even for Olivia. These Disney Die Cut Storybooks were for Sharon herself.
It was a tragic series of events that led to this day. So tragic, Sharon had never mentioned them openly. But Sharon had somehow never seen a Disney movie, and she was to embarrassed to admit that she didn't know any of the plots.
As a young girl, she'd felt herself too old for "Alice In Wonderland" and "Bambi" and the like. As a mother, she'd always intended to go, but somehow Michelle and Todd always saw them with friends or relatives. "101 Dalmatians" and "Dumbo" were on TV sometimes, but always opposite football or some late-night soap opera Sharon didn't feel she could miss. And by the time "Aladdin" appeared- well, Alex saw it somehow, but Sharon wasn't with him when he did.
And now, as a grandmother, Sharon was EXPECTED to know these things! "The Jungle Book" and "Pinocchio" and "Peter Pan" were things EVERY child talked about. How could she, a loving grandmother, have gone so long without knowing what happened in "Lady And The Tramp"? Was THAT why Olivia was so different? Had Sharon simply failed her?
The police officer waved as he pulled back onto the highway, and Sharon waved back. She felt guilty, but could never admit the horrible truth. But she swore, to herself and to the spirit of Justice itself: by this time tomorrow, the mysteries of Disney would be hers.