A Kid Kept Kicking My Seat and Throwing Popcorn in My Hair, Then My Husband Finally Did Something About It

“Stay here,” he said.

And then he got up and walked out of the theater.

I sat there with my mouth open. Owen doesn’t get up. Owen doesn’t walk out. Owen doesn’t do anything that might make anyone, anywhere, uncomfortable for even one second.

He was gone for four minutes. I counted. I watched the little clock on my phone.

When he came back, he wasn’t alone.