It was a magical summer evening in a cottage in the woods. The rain danced off the leaves. We ate our veggie dinner al fresco on the wrap around porch. We told stories. The gin flowed. Just two good friends sharing there riches with my family of four.
After the kids and men got ice cream it was determined that we educated the goose on the wealth of 80’s cinema. First was the acclaimed Xanadu staring our beloved ONJ and a faux Andy Gibb. Followed by Pretty in Pink. It seems I petered out shortly after the first scene in Annie Potts’ apartment. I think I got up to use the bathroom, caught sight of the bed I was meant to sleep in, and answered it’s come hither call to me. It’s nothing new to friends. When I’m done, the lights go out. I always figure I can deal with pleasantries in the morning. In my defense, it had gotten quite late and I had been at work very early that morning.
Later that week the goose and I stopped to visit my parents. I’m guessing inappropriate conversations came up because I can’t imagine that my darling sweet girl would have dimed my out apropos to nothing. At any rate. She tells the story of the evening from her perspective. There was a lot of singing……and at some point I called one of the characters a fucking cunt.
Awesome! Thanks doll for telling on me to my PARENTS. Lest you be shocked she didn’t use the actual words. She said “the F and C words. The big ones.”
Neither parent was particularly shocked. They made a show of giving me a disapproving look.
What can I say, I get animated. If we were going to teach the kid about the 80’s my foul mouth was a HUGE part of the era.