Tickets had been booked for Ann, Nina, and myself to see The Simpsons. When I told Peter, he said he wanted to come too. He hates being left out of anything. We hadn't included him in the first place as he has often made his views on the Simpsons very clear and it didn't occur to us he might actually wish to attend. We couldn't get him a ticket on the same row as us, but we did manage to find him one on the row ahead. I had visions of going 'shhhhhhhh ...' if he so much as rustled a sweet paper during the performance. I have always wanted to do that.
Peter fortifying himself with a large Jack Daniels before the performance.
The cinema was packed with shouting, yelling children rushing about. They were stuffing their faces with nasty, smelly popcorn and making slurping noises while sucking up disgusting looking liquid through a straw. Eventually the racket died down enough to hear the familiar Simpsons music. The little boy on my left finished slurping his dayglo green drink and carelessly tossed the plastic beaker down a few rows, landing on a small girl's shoulder.
Oh how I love the Simpsons, especially the womenfolk.
Hero of heroes, lovely Marge.
Budding hero Lisa
Potential hero Maggie
Just as I was really getting into the film, in spite of the boy on my left, who was now stuffing foul smelling popcorn into his mouth, I glanced across at Peter on the row in front, and HE WAS ASLEEP! How can anyone a) sleep during such a noisy film with Homer shouting the odds every few seconds and b) having various missiles landing in his lap by some of the more enthusiastic children. I nudged Ann, sitting on my right, pointed at Peter and we both sniggered!
The film progressed. Ouch. I had to turn away. Poor Homer. I'm such a wimp I can't cope with people being hurt on screen, even such anti-heroes as Homer and Bart!
What a couple of plonkers.
Peter woke up, and started watching. 'Who is that?' he mouthed across to me:
'Grandpa' I mouthed back.
The child next to me was picking his nose.
We sat and watched until the very last credit had disappeared. So did the boy next to me. He had decided to sit quietly and watch the screen, so we all had to squeeze by him to get out while he just sat on in a state of total oblivion.
Peter and I then went to have a meal in Il Pomodora, our local Italian restaurant. This is a really nice little place, unpretentious and fairly inexpensive if you go easy on the liqueurs. Once a few years ago, we were having a meal there and David and Victoria Beckham were a few tables away, with one of their little boys and a couple of heavies looking after them.
In between courses I sent Maalie a text: 'Just seen the Simpsons'. A couple of minutes later I got one back simply saying 'wah. nonsense'. He's turning into a really grumpy old man!
I wonder if anyone else but Ju's Little Sister and Raela have difficulty when trying to type. This is Scaredy, asleep on the printer, waking up and spotting me and then coming to get me.
I'll just have to take Badger for a walk now it's stopped raining. Sorry Scaredy!
My toe is beginning to heal but I still have to be careful. I find I can cycle ok, but Peter has somehow manage to deflate my front tyre while trying to pump it up for me, and it doesn't appear to want to be inflated again. TCA ..... HELP !!!