Years ago, I walked in on my husband and young son watching a horror movie. They were snuggled up on the lounge as the terror unfolded on screen, completely united in their fear of what was going to happen next. I didn’t want to interrupt them. They were clearly bonding over the experience, so I left them to it.
I’d yell at my husband later, I decided. He was going to cop an earful about letting our impressionable son watch terrifying movies that were clearly made for adults and not children. The conversation went a little something like this.
Me: “What the hell were you thinking?!?”
Husband: “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Me: “How am I going to get him to sleep?”
Husband: “I’ll do it. It’s my fault. I’ll get him to sleep.”
Me: “Okay, but don’t ever let him watch movies like that again. What were you thinking?!?”