Oh you know what I'm talking about. The hand goes on the hip, the head tilts, and then the eyes, in tandem, are rolled back in the head ending with a sneer that sends the blood spurting northward into your brain like an oil spurt.
My daughter, the 5-year-old, has mastered it.
Do you know where she's discovered this delightful tick? From all the cute furry animals in all the lovely Dreamworks/Pixar flicks where they toss off one-liners so that the parents shuttling their tots don't get bored.
Guess what - I'm not bored. I'm fed up. Yes, that was the sound of my rolling MY eyes.
Last week I took The Rabbit instead to Kit Kittridge. Sure, it sounded like an advertorial for the American Girl brand. But guess what -- it wasn't. No dolls in the movie. Just a really great script, stellar acting (Stanley Tucci, Wallace Shawn, Julia Ormand, a FEMALE director), a wonderful timely story about a little girl and her family during the depression, and not an eye roll in sight.
I fully recommend this flick to anyone. The Rabbit asked to see it again before the credits stopped, and I loved it enough to possibly indulge her. And just think, I don't have to spend the next month fielding jokes about body parts or odors, nor snarky sasses that emanate from the mouth of a hippo to a lion.