Me (after the kids are in bed last night): Hey, babe? I want you to watch this new show, American Horror Story, with me tonight. It’s on On Demand and everyone says it’s really good. I watched the first 3 minutes of the first episode and it seemed totally interesting. Want to?
Jason: Is it scary?
Me: I don’t know… I mean I guess it’s supposed to be, but it’s a serialized show, how can it be that scary?
Jason: OK, I’ll try it out if you want to.
Me (the next morning): I DIDN’T SLEEP AT ALL. Not one bit.
Jason: What? Really? Because of that show?
Me: Yes, because of that show. And because in the dark and without my glasses on, the fan in our room looks like a giant tarantula on the ceiling…
Jason: Um… no it doesn’t.
Me: And because your cat was scratching at the wardrobe next to the bed like she was trying to warn me about a ghost or a psychotic killer in there waiting for me to fall asleep …
Jason: She does that every night. You’re just usually snoring so loud you don’t hear it.
Me: And because Gray sleepwalked down the stairs and tried to go out into the garage halfway through the show, and when we tried to talk to him about what he was doing, he just stared at us with children of the corn eyes and refused to even make a sound…
Jason: OK, I admit that was creepy. Especially because the kid’s never sleepwalked before in his life.
Me: And because even though I tried desperately to think of calming, beautiful and sleep-inducing things like unicorns and drinking margaritas on the beach while attractive men fan me and tell me I’m brilliant and funny, I kept seeing body parts in glass jars, the mirror punishment room, psycho killers of all varieties and Jessica Lange with her boyfriend who’s a third of her age.
Jason: It’s just a show.
Me: I’m feeling like this is a sign you don’t love me anymore.
Me: Why would you let me watch that? And right before bed?
Jason: Wait, wait, you asked me to watch it with you!
Me: Yes, and you let that happen. You also bought two bags of Chili Cheese Fritos last night.
Jason: You love Chili Cheese Fritos!
Me: That is my point. After nearly 10 years of marriage you should know I can’t be trusted to act in my own self-interest when either scary things OR Chili Cheese Fritos are involved. It’s your job to save me from myself.
Jason: Oh my god. Are you serious? Fine. We won’t watch that show again.
Me: What? We’re still two episodes behind! Of course we’re going to watch it. Now I’m emotionally invested. I have to find out if Francis Conroy is a ghost or if Dylan McDermott just has some strange old lady fetish we don’t totally understand yet. And is anyone ever going to tell Jessica Lange it’s not politically correct to call her daughter a ‘mongoloid’?
Jason: I’m not ever going to win in this, am I?
Me: Not super likely.