When I was my son's age, we lived in Saskatchewan on a Canadian Air Force Base. Nestled in the wheat fields of rural Canada. I had discovered a love of books but could not yet read, so my father would indulge me with one of my favourites; Chicken Little. As the youngest in the family, I related to this little guy. As one who had dramatic tendencies, I related even more. More Chicken Little, and the sky that was falling. I loved that story and heard it often.

My son is now the same age, and has discovered a love of the movie theatre. He has seen only three, but I was thrilled to hear that Chicken Little would be coming to the theatre; something we would both love. I bought him the book so we could read it before we went. At four, it's better to read him the story in advance, to avoid the million questions in his rather loud voice throughout the movie theatre. So we purchased the book with the movie theatre version of the story and came home that evening to read it.

The world is a different place now, than it was in 1975. Times change, we evolve. For better or worse. But this story I had loved as a child was now a tale of monsters and aliens, tentacles and space ships. Was this what we now needed to amuse and hold the attention of our children. What had Disney done to my favourite childhood story? I read on. My son's interest waned. I could tell that he didn't really like the story. Give him aliens with tentacles and he scares. No wonder. I would have too. I would have hated this version of the story as a child. NOt only was it scary, but the story was weak.

My son has not asked to see the movie, I am going to buy him the real version of the story, and we will coninute to share wonderful and meaningful moments. I have heard that the reviews of Chicken Little are really bad, but have not seen any first hand yet. Regardless, it was the number one movie this past weekend, and the stores are full of it's merchandise, just in time for Christmas. I have decided that we will not go. Maybe we'll put on our own puppet show after we read the real story and curl up on his bed and make up some more chicken little tales that don't have anything to do with tentacled aliens.