An Inebriated Rumination on Mrs. Doubtfire

It's been eating away at me, this thing, this Mrs. Doubtfire thing. That movie, the whole premise is so unusual. It must be broken down. What makes you tick Mrs. Doubtfire? What color of sexual neurosis crawls beneath your petticoats of lies? Girl, I'm about to rip that cream pie mask right off yo' big ol' hairy Robin Williams man face.

Let me begin by saying that the tagline for this movie was, "She will rock your world." I just grabbed at my bosom because, indeed, I have been rocked. There has to be more to the backstory, years of the Hillard's butting heads, perhaps over Daniel's unusual tendencies.

Let's just make this clear, this dude, Daniel Hillard, his solution to gaining additional custody of his children is not to, go out and seek gainful employment, perhaps do a little soul searching, but instead spending his time to create a complete alter ego. Enter: Iphegenia Doubtfire, Scottish Nanny.

The absurdity level is through the roof. The only meaningful quote that I can give you at the point is, "Something something drive by fruiting."

Then of course at some point this happens.

This is the real money shot right here. This is the only reason that I remember seeing this movie at my local suburban sprawl movie theatre. Perhaps this movie was the hit of Thanksgiving 1993.

I WILL NEVER KNOW.

Then at some point the jig is up. Senorita Doubtfire is exposed for the unsettling fraud that IT IS.

Yet, somehow by the end of the film everybody is happy? Both Miranda Hillard and her children have been subjected to their father/ex spouse dressing as an elderly woman from a different country, assuming an entirely different history and accent to be near them INSTEAD OF GETTING HIS SHIT TOGETHER. But they're all like, "Hey, let's let cross dressing bygones be bygones. I want to go to McDonald's because I don't like what they got from Burger King."

Mrs. Doubtfire y'all.

My grandma lives in a Del Webb community.