Oh you guys have got to be kidding me. This movie had me bawling like a stolen baby.
I'm not sure if any of you are familiar with this made-for-tv masterpiece, so I'll provide a summary. So Kellie Martin (Corky's sister) stars as a red-headed, lactose-intolerant teen, She is also apparently not-getting-kidnapped intolerant, because when she was three, she was shoe shopping with her mother and siblings, and was taken by a prostitute cult member. What? Yeah.
Anyway, Prostitute Cult Member (PCM) decided stolen three-year-old girls aren't nearly as fun as she thought they'd be, so she took kidnapee, Jenny (Corky's sister), to live with PCM's rich parents, who thought she was their granddaughter. They figured she was the product of some cult-orgy or some John's seed, and CERTAINLY had no clue her face was on milk, so they raised Jenny as Janie, until she was 15. You know, just old enough to start reading milk cartons. You may have reread the plot up to this point, but if you think too much about it, your head might explode, so I suggest just going with it. Oh yeah, PCM gets hepatitis a few years later and dies. You can't make this stuff up.
Anyway, Janie/Jenny's real parents have been looking for her for 13 years. At some point, some letters are written but not sent, some phone numbers are almost dialed, and some addresses are nearly sought out, and through all this half-assery somehow Jenny/Janie's custody is called into question. Obvs, J/J goes back to live with her real, red-headed parents and their Ginger family (who, by the way, totally grossed me out when they were all drinking milk and eating hamburgers.... If they had been eating Doritos, I promise you, I would have barfed). I guess I'm not the only one who is terrified that this family's eyelashes are the same color as their eyelids, because Jenny/Janie considers running away. A lot. Finally, her real parents decide to give her back to dead prostitute's parents, because she was happier there and King Solomon said so. And everybody is happy again, except for the Gingers, who basically got screwed twice.
Okay, typing that out, I'm like, "Why was I crying again?" but then I just looked at H- and thought, "Holy crap, if he was kidnapped I would seriously go insane," and I kind of got misty again. Not misty enough to stop typing this out, but after I hit publish I'm going snuggle the heck out of him, I swear.
I think every mom's worst nightmare is that her child will be taken from her. This is why kid leashes attached to backpacks with monkeys on them were invented.
Sometimes I even consider putting my kids in these things, because I am THAT crazy about not losing them. I'd rather face ten red-headed, running midgets wearing Darth Maul masks than think for a SECOND that my child has been kidnapped. I know I've had moments of, "Wait... where's L-? Where'd she go- Oh okay, she's okay," and many of you have told me HORROR stories of losing sight for longer than a few minutes and living the nightmare of praying they are at the lost and found or with the store clerk, or whatever. You guys, kidnapping is SCARY, and I want no part of it.
I swear to you, if a dead prostitute ever tries to take my baby, I will personally give her hepatitis.
To summarize what I tivoed, The Face on the Milk Carton was an excellent choice for lazy Saturday viewing. However, after watching it, I fear that my kids will hate me forever because I am never ever ever ever ever EVER letting go of their hands in public, and also, we may never go shoe shopping again. Tivo at your own risk.