Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Chick Flicks

He Said - by Blaine Staat

The night started great.

I had just walked into the kitchen after having upgraded my neighbor’s intelligence regarding the fact that my 4.5 HP push lawnmower actually had more cutting power than his 5.5 HP self propelled - since everybody knows it takes at least a horse and a half to power the autodrive; Duh - when I saw the Blockbuster video bag by the toaster.

I stopped short. Oh no. Oh please no.

Honey,” my wife called from the other room, “I thought we could watch a movie tonight.”

I heard the shriek of tires on asphalt and cringed as my Friday night abruptly ended with a sickening crunch. I answered her with what I thought was an enthusiastic “Oh. Okay,” even as the ominous bag of videos continued to leer at me from the counter.

What horrors lurked inside, I wondered? Fried Green Tomatoes? Message in a Bottle? My Big Fat Greek Wedding? Babette’s Feast? The possibilities alone made me break into a cold sweat.

Think, Blaine, think!

It’s probably something new . . . with a title as bad as the content . . . but what? “Steel Magnolias”? No, I slept through the annual viewing of that scintillating cinematic masterpiece last month. Not that. But what then? What could it . . . Oh no.

I shuddered as realization slapped me across the face like a canoe paddle. She had picked up a bad French movie with subtitles. I didn’t even have to look; I could just sense it. I grimaced, feeling as if someone had just shot my 16lb Johnny Petraglia LT-48 multi-surface bowling ball out of a cannon straight into my gut.

I don’t want much from a movie. Just one car chase, one big explosion, or even a few thigh slapping jokes regarding bodily functions (done in the best of taste, of course). Is that too much to ask? I mean, who needs all that plot and dialogue when we have special effects at our disposal?

I sighed. I lifted one foot.

I put it down and lifted the other.

For a moment, I considered cold revenge, and my thoughts lent themselves to renting a Vin Diesel movie for the following evening. But I knew I couldn’t do it. She wasn’t trying to hurt me. I’m not sure what she was trying to do, but hurting me wasn’t it. So instead, I grabbed the bag from the counter, took what I thought was a very sensitive deep breath, and shuffled off to my doom.


She Said - by Catherine Staat

I have noticed and made note of my darling’s requests, or I should say “not so subtle hints” that we are not spending enough “alone time” as he would like. I get so involved in what I’m doing that I get blinders on and keep going without stopping to think about my cutie pie. It’s hard to remember that he needs that attention, especially at the end of the day when I’m ready to tag him on the shoulder and say, “You’re it and I’m outta here!”, even if it is only to hide in the bathroom for 5 minutes.

What would be really nice is to be able to go the bathroom without little fingers under the door or constant knocking and asking, “Mommy? Are you in there?!” I feel as if everyone wants a part of me and has been hanging on me all day so that by the time Blaine comes home I feel as if I have nothing left to give.

So to get myself in that frame of mind I thought it would be nice to sit down together and watch a movie, or according to Blaine a “chick flick!”

This takes effort and planning. Schedules are rearranged and children are tucked away for the evening to ensure that there will be no interruptions. Everything has been shifted and moved up a bit, and I busy myself with making everything “just so”, right down the to movie I have picked out to help enhance the mood (or should I say, my mood!)

I need something to help take my mind off of the day to day things that I sometimes think about over and over (like a little committee meeting) making note of what I need to do, should have done, and will have to do the following day. I have got to find a way to tune that out, and watching a romantic movie while snuggling next to my honey . . . well, what could be better? Right honey?!

Honey?

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