Danny had casually asked me about Thanksgiving when I was young, and I replied without thinking that I usually ended up at Grey Gardens (the snarky name I'd used to describe the cat-filled home of an eccentric relation, which isn't entirely accurate as Big and Little Edie were sympathetic characters, unlike our bonkers family) which sucked as I'm allergic to cats. My husband sat there with a blank stare, and I realised he'd never seen the documentary.
Yeah. So we got it from the library. We know what we're dressing as for Halloween next year.
Obviously Danny loved the part where little Edie is feeding the raccoon a loaf of wonder bread, and a box of cat chow, but he really fell in love with her accent.
"I fed the caaaaaaaat!" he's taken to shrieking at me from the stairs.
"I shouldda married Paul Getty", I reply.
How my film-buff husband managed to never see the film is hard to imagine, but I don't think he'll be forgetting it anytime soon. And now he has something new to call the relations, because, "The Springer Show Guests" was getting kind of tired.
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