Mom reading to me and my brother before bedtime, circa 1979.

When I was seven or eight, my little brother and I had Peanuts sheet sets. They were patterned with iconic scenes: Lucy leaning over Schroeder’s piano; Snoopy stealing Linus’ blanket, the kids playing baseball. The football, the kite, the slobbery dog kiss. But the pillowcase was my favorite. All the kids, standing and smiling, a giant voice bubble proclaiming overhead, “Happiness is being one of the gang.”

My Peanuts sheets served many purposes, including homemade photo backdrop, circa 1979

I remember many Saturday mornings, waking up and grabbing pencil and paper, getting back in bed and practicing my Charlie Brown shirt, Sally’s hair ball thing, Snoopy’s profile. Before superheroes and Star Wars, even before Mickey, these were the characters I drew. They were the simplest, the most welcoming, and they were right there with me. I was developing skills that would serve as my lifelong passion, and eventually my career. And over 30 years later, my doodles still look like Charlie Brown.

Peanuts has always been in my life. And not just in mine — the characters of Charles M. Schulz were a ubiquitous part of American pop culture for over half a century. Yet aside from a couple of TV specials and some insurance commercials, the Peanuts gang have become relative strangers to an entire generation: our kids.

So when I got excited upon seeing the trailer for The Peanuts Movie a few months ago, it wasn’t that I’d been dying to see them splashed on the big screen. I was excited at the possibility of better introducing these characters to my son.

The Peanuts sheets and pillow now belong on my son's bed, still useful (and comforting) after all these years.

I’ve spent a good deal of time teaching my 6-year-old the essentials of pop culture. Superheroes, Star Wars and Disney were the tenets of my childhood — three of the cornerstones on which my imagination and creativity were founded. And these all still exist in myriad ways for us to experience together. Not so, Peanuts.

Charlie Brown once stood alongside Superman, Darth Vader and Mickey Mouse as a universally recognized character. Perhaps he wasn’t the most heroic of the four, but was certainly the most relatable. Yet somewhere along the way Charlie, Snoopy, Linus and the gang fell out of favor with the masses. I don't know if this was the doing of their creator or his estate, or merely the state of a society always on the lookout for the bigger, louder, flashier thing. Things that Chuck and co. have never been.

Maybe Peanuts didn’t stay relevant because it refused to change. Maybe these characters faded from the spotlight for a while, but I’m okay with that. It saved us from having to see Charlie Brown go through a break dancing phase, or Schroeder join a boy band, or Lucy and Sally hawking glitter eye shadow at Hot Topic. They’ve remained simple and predictable, yet still timeless and full of insight.

We saw the movie on my son’s sixth birthday. I’d laid very little groundwork, and there weren’t any action figures or video games to hype things up. He’d always known Charlie Brown (I’ve got a tattoo) and Snoopy, but I was curious to have him experience them and the rest of the gang on his own terms.

We took up half a row — Papa, me, Jon, his friends the twins, their parents. My patience got tested early on. My very formerly five-year-old seemed to channel Charlie Brown from the get-go, elbowing my soda in the cup holder and spilling a good bit, fidgeting till he scattered his popcorn, slumping in his seat in an attempt to slide under the railing, then finally dumping his entire bottle of water on the floor, my jacket and my shoes. I think I actually muttered an “AUUUGH!”

He finally settled in (and I cleaned up), and then halfway through settled into my lap. He laughed and smiled, perked up during the Red Baron scenes, got a little bored during the trying-to-talk-to-the-girl scenes. And when it was over, we hustled down the steps, chatting about our favorite parts as we herded through the halls. Jon declared Charlie Brown his favorite character, but his favorite scene was the Snoopy Dance. And then he proceeded to re-create the beagle’s most gleeful pose — head back, arms outstretched, his feet scampering with delight.

For me, the film never veered from the message Peanuts has had for 65 years. Life can be hard sometimes, and sometimes you’re clumsy, awkward and insecure. But if you’re true to yourself, people will see that and accept you for who you genuinely, honestly are.

After the movie, we went out for birthday pizza. The kids finished quickly and were busily coloring on activity sheets provided by the restaurant. I went and got my own and some crayons, so I could illustrate these three friends in Peanuts fashion. They all got a big kick out of it, but my son’s response was the sweetest. He flipped over his paper and started working away. After a few minutes, he presented me with his very first rendering of (from left to right) Snoopy, Charlie Brown and Woodstock.