Unintended side effects

After living here over three years, I finally have my bedroom mostly the way I want it. (I would like a new rug and a new curtain rod, and that’s it.) It is always the last room that gets settled when we move, although this is probably a record. I think I never wanted to admit we were going  to be here for any length of time.

I’ve discovered the problem with having a bedroom that you’re happy with is that you want to stay in bed, and keeping this family friendly, at least read in bed or watch TV stream video in bed. Which I did this morning: watched TV streamed video on a Saturday morning like a kid.

Not long ago I told pH that on Saturdays back in the stone ages of the early 80s, we did not have the ability to watch anything we wanted whenever we wanted, do a search for related shows, go back and watch a part of something again if we didn’t catch it, or even to pause to go to the bathroom.

When we want to harass pH in public we sing TV theme songs, which of course we know because we couldn’t skip through the intro, another thing she doesn’t understand. Or we’ll debate about the provenance of songs: in a waiting room yesterday, we were bickering about which Jackie Chan movie had “Kung Fu Fighting” sung by Tom Jones and a guy across the room said, “Supercop.” Which was all kinds of awesome, because we’d adhered to the Hat Family 1990s edition Bickering Rules of Order and didn’t look it up on a smartphone–and neither had the guy across the room. (Smartphones ruin everything.)

As to watching: I’ve been finishing up the last couple of seasons of Morse. I refused to watch Morse for years because when I called my parents while the last episode was airing on PBS (I was unaware of this momentous occasion), I was rather rudely told to call back later. (Ancient spoiler alert: he dies.) Because I’m petty, I never called during evening TV hours again, but I doubt they noticed.

So while I’d watched Lewis and Endeavour, I hadn’t watched all of Morse. My husband occasionally watches, but Morse is not his kind of guy. (Foyle is.) kH has a theory that Great Britain only has twenty main actors and they’re always murdering or being murdered in all of the shows, and if he recognizes an actor, well, that’s the murderer.  Which often but doesn’t always work.* (Michael Kitchen was a bad guy in one episode of Morse, but not a murderer, and what the heck was a young Foyle with a perm and no fedora doing there, anyway? I can’t think of Michael Kitchen as anything but Foyle, but if you’re going to be typecast, that’s not bad.)

All of this is to say: this morning I was bitching about a hedge being cut down and now we had to look at a “car park” from our kitchen window…and kH didn’t react.

What?

See, kH has a complicated relationship with Great Britain, although Great Britain isn’t aware of it and doubtless wouldn’t care. When our daughter was induced and would thus share a birthday with his least favorite king (you know, that George, and yes, we looked it up because my family has a tendency to end up with significant World War II event birthdays: pH ended up with five WWII events, a family record), he asked, “Can we hold off a day?” Recently I was telling him about the relationships of the English Hanoverian kings with their sons (even more ancient spoiler alert: not good), and he said, “You can’t convince me to like any of them.” I hadn’t been trying; I know better. Usually he calls them German upstarts.

And all of the above rambling is to distract me from thinking about the fact my earlier symptoms never really went away, and due to a cancellation, I managed to be scheduled for an endoscopy on Monday (my gastroenterologist is kind of a rock star and this is a minor miracle) and I hate being under anesthesia so much I dread it long in advance, the way I dread flying in turbo-prop aircraft, and I really hate colorless liquid diets, which is what I have to look forward to tomorrow and (early) Monday morning after which I’m fasting. Yes, this is a totally basic procedure and I’ve done it twice before and it’s not like it’s surgery, but still. It’s a bother and this is my melodrama.

So if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to finish Season/Series 6.


*But does for almost every Law and Order franchise.