I'll be back...

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Have you ever regretted asking a question?

I have...

'Would you like to go and see the new Terminator film?' I asked the husband over a cup of tea and a couple of dairy, wheat, egg and gluten free ginger biscuits. (I don't know what is holding these biscuits together, but they are all that keeps me sane these days).  Well dear readers, his little face lit up like Oxford Street on Christmas Eve and I suggested that we go at the weekend.  This involved going to his favourite cinema where he could get a Rum'n'Raisin ice cream smoothie, and to be honest with you, I'm not too sure which one he was more excited about.

'Great idea!' the husband said.  'Which one has been your favourite to date? '  

Now I could have lied.  In fact, I should have lied, but the three words ('None of them') had slipped out of my mouth before it had time to receive instructions from my brain.  The incredulous look he gave me was only rivaled by the look I got three years ago after confessing that I had never seen Top Gun.  This was remedied some time later and it was every bit as bad as I anticipated.

'Then we have to watch them all before we go to see the new one', he said.

So that has been my week so far.  I've managed to keep my eyes open almost all the way through number one.  After half an hour, I did ask the husband whether this was in fact a comedy rather than some post apocalyptic fantasy drivel, but the look on his face told me everything I needed to know so I shut up.

Film number two was marginally better in that was naked for longer than in film number one, but again, it was funny, loud and just a little bit daft.

I was speaking to Master P yesterday about how dreadful the films had been, and he proclaimed that number two was just the best film ever.  He rapidly followed this up with the excellent advice that films number three and four didn't need to be watched as film number five simply picked up from where film number two left off...Deep breath.

So this weekend, we are off to see number five.  I am hoping that as each film has progressed that the Naked Arnie Sections have got longer as time has passed.  I am anticipating at least an hour of the husband muttering about 'steroids' and Mr S not being a real man'.

But it's the price he has to pay for making me sit through this drivel and for scoffing ice cream so fast he gets brain freeze...



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