"You're fired from ordering the Netflix," complained Claus, as he looked at the mail. The movie was The Lovely Bones.
I had read the book and was curious to see the movie, though I knew looking at it would trigger all my already-neurotic parental fears. I really don't need encouragement from a film to feel unsafe and nervous about my daughter's safety. I can do that just fine on my own. I get that from my mom.
"How is this a chick flick?" I asked.
"Why couldn't you order a comedy or a thriller?" he insisted.
"Then you do it," I said.
He went online and was looking for The Hurt Locker. "I already saw that," I said.
With total surprise, he said, "When did you see The Hurt Locker?!" He probably thinks that's not my genre, and/or when did I look at a movie without him?
I laughed. "We have had this exact conversation about six times now. I rented this when you were skiing in Utah in February. Remember?" For good measure, I laughed at him periodically for the rest of the night. Maybe now he won't forget.
"Why do you have to rent the good ones when I'm gone?" he sniffed.
"Why do you have to go skiing on Valentines Day weekend without me?" I sniffed back.
We watched The Lovely Bones that night without further complaint.
Have I mentioned I've seen The Hurt Locker?
TWILIGHT: NEW MOON
The next movie was Twilight. I have to admit, I do like that series. I saw the first one out of curiosity, and to my shock, I actually liked it. (Team Jacob, by the way. It's the abs.) (OMG, am I officially a cougar??)
When that came in the mail, Claus was really annoyed at me for having the "worse" taste in movies. I watched it one afternoon when I was sick, thinking he would not care about seeing it.
It was a Saturday and we had nothing else to look at that night on TV, so he said he wouldn't mind watching Twilight out of pure desperation. "But you've already seen it," he said politely, "so we don't have to look at it again. Twice in a day is a bit much, right?"
I insisted I was OK with it, and in order to make it interesting for myself, I put up the Spanish subtitles so I could brush up. I then fell asleep.
About halfway through the movie, I got up, and said I was going to bed. He turned off the TV and followed me to the room.
"Did you like the movie?" I asked. As expected, he said no. Make that, "Absolutely not."
"Why did you watch it for so long, then?" I said.
He thought I wanted to see it. I thought he wanted to see it.
To make it worse, he couldn't hear because the volume was too low, and he didn't want to turn it up 1) because he claimed he was too lazy to get off the sofa, 2) because he thought I purposely had it set low so I could really practice my Spanish.
"I could hear it," I clarified.
"What? You're the one who can never hear the movie. You make me turn it up so that the neighbors can hear it. That's why I thought you had it low on purpose," he said. Apparently, there was only a ten minute window in which there were no cars, no dogs barking, and no dishwasher washing, so that he could hear the words being spoken.
So we were sitting there for each others' sake, when nobody really wanted to watch Twilight. I laughed so hard I cried.
By the way- I watched the Hurt Locker already.
SIX FEET UNDER
I assured Claus I got it right for next time. Next up, several seasons of Six Feet Under. We saw seasons one and two, but I guess I didn't order the subsequent seasons because I must have made a mistake or oversight when making the queue.
And still he is not happy with me. "So now I have to watch my work," he stated. He runs a mortuary.
I'm going to have to insist he take over the Netflix account! Except, I then might find myself watching The Hurt Locker. I've seen that already, you know.
Also reach me via DianeAko.com