Raiders of the Lost Ark

Turns out, Sam’s never seen it . . . so we rented it this weekend and, after Julia fell asleep each night, watched it in installments.

I gotta say, The boy loved it. He now thinks that Indiana Jones is the coolest thing in the world (even if he does look an awful lot like Han Solo).

In the scene in the underground bunker, where Indy is trying to put on the too-small Nazi uniform, I turned to Sam and said: “You know, Harrison Ford kinda reminds me of Uncle Jim sometimes.”

“You mean because of all the chest hair?”

“Uh . . . no . . . but I think Uncle Jim’ll be pleased to hear your thoughts on the subject.”

At the end of the movie, when everything has happened and the lid is back on the box, Sam turned to me and said “That was pretty cool.”

“You liked it?”

“Yeah. A lot. Can you rewind it to the part where all the faces melt?”

We’ll probably rent Temple of Doom this week.

“Hey, you call him Dr.Jones . . . doll.”