My wife, bless her, loves action movies. When she's working at home on a Sunday afternoon, she'll switch on TV and dial around the cable channels. Now cable channels like to repeat certain movies fairly often; I suppose these are the popular ones. K will always stop on a channel if it has the action-packed latterday
The Mummy or one of its sequels. At a frantic pace, protagonists are chased around, attacked by lots of bad guys, and menaced by monsters. She finds this a comfort.
Sometimes I tease her about this. I've lost count of the number of times she's seen
The Mummy, and I think she has, too.
Today I came into the room, and observed that
The Mummy Returns1 was onscreen. "Another Mummy movie, eh?" I said.
"And the first Mummy movie is on another channel right now!" she announced, knowing that the idea would amuse me.
"So it's just like that well-known children's book!" I said.
I think she rolled her eyes, but after all these years of marriage,
2 she knows what she's expected to say.
"Which well-known children's book?"
"
Heather Has Two Mummies!"
( Footnotes behind cut )