jennanddave.com

Last night after belly dance class I stopped by the local ice cream joint to buy a couple of treats for myself and Dave, knowing that after the previous night's failed attempt to watch "The Bourne Ultimatum" that he'd be raring to go for another try. Dave was still putting Henry to bed when I got back so I took Flash out for a walk. When we came home and opened the front door we were greeted by the roar of the popcorn maker going full blast, a sound which invariably sends Flash into ecstasy-filled fits of happiness (this is Flash we're talking about so, you know, she wags her tail a bit then sits and looks hopeful) which are only slightly tainted by the fear that maybe we won't give her any popcorn at all. (Which, for the record, hasn't ever happened, but she's a bit of a worrier.) I show Dave the ice cream I hid away in the freezer and we both had a hearty laugh over our mutually preparing snacks because we both knew we'd want to watch the movie tonight and aren't we perfect for each other, etc. etc. then we retired to the couch and turned on the DVD player.

tv: Goa, India *pan over to Franka Potente*
dave: *rowr* Franka...*rowr*
me: Sooooo...didn't she die at the beginning of the second Bourne movie?
dave: Ummmm...yeah?
me: And didn't the second one start off with them living in India?
dave: Uhhhhhh...I didn't get the wrong movie did I? There's no way I got the wrong movie.
me: Well, if they're living on the beach I'd say you got the wrong movie.
tv: Matt Damon opens a door and walks out onto a porch that overlooks the beach.
dave: NO! NONONONONONONONO! I WAS SO IN THE MOOD TO WATCH THIS TONIGHT! Why didn't they name them "Bourne's 1, 2, and 3"? WHY???

So we still haven't seen the third installment. Maybe one day...