Lyn and I should never be left to our own devices. It never fails that when we want to go see a movie that no one else will watch with us, it is going to be about dead moms.
The week after our own mother died, we went to see Raising Helen. We thought, what a great movie about an irresponsible woman who is forced to raise some kids who aren't hers. Oh, you mean the children's mother dies? And we will sob out of control in a crowded movie theatre? Sign us up.
Then we went through phases of watching Step-Mom (not only does the mom die, but she dies of cancer) and also Hope Floats (an intense mother-daughter movie where, you guessed it, the mom dies).
Cut to Tuesday. Lyn and I are stoked for our first night to the movies since Ky left for Ireland. She doesn't often like to watch the same movies that Lyn and I want to go to. Correction. She just doesn't like to go to the lame chick movies that Lyn and I enjoy. Three quarters of the other movies we watch, she is right there with us.
So, Lyn and I think about it. We can go to Hairspray (which Ky has seen and loved) or to The Bourne Ultimatum (which we all saw from the bottom of the largest screen in the world which caused Jason Bourne to look like Fat Bastard). Ooooooooooooor, we can go to No Reservations. Guess which one we picked?
That's right. The one where the mom dies.
Damn, we're good.